Red Sky
by JDantes15
Summary: Chronicles of NarniaXFairy Tail. In an AU world that has the geography of Narnia and the spirit of Fairy Tail, events are about to catapult out of control. Narnia is at peace for the first time in many years, but unspoken tension bubbles just beneath the surface. One strange figure wanders into Fairy Tail and changes everything forever.
1. Prologue

I own neither Fairy Tail, nor the Chronicles of Narnia. All rights belong to Hiro Mashima and C.S. Lewis.

HULL

… _My claims are neither unfounded nor unprecedented. For those of you who remain in blissful ignorance, allow me to give you a brief timeline._

 _0 A.D. (After Departure): Aslan and Tash depart from Narnia forever, leaving huge religious organization in their wake. Their departure, while questioned by the scientific community, marks the start of our modern history. The events surrounding the "departure" throw Narnia into a bitter religious civil war that lasts four years. The atrocities committed by the Aslanic and the Tashlanian churches during this time are now overlooked and unmentioned by the reigning political party._

 _4 A.D.: An outside and "unaffiliated" political party takes control with a peaceful coup, establishing a tentative constitutional monarchy. The monarch in question is called the "Paslan," a nod to the still-powerful Aslanic church. Archenland, taking advantage of the precarious political situation in Narnia, begins building weapons made with dark magic. Thus follows the infamous "Silent War," in which both sides race to outbuild each other. The weapons remain intact to this day._

 _8 A.D.: The larger body of Narnia takes control of the small northern section, supposedly to promote peace with the nearly-extinct giants. This bid for power, while successful, alienates a good portion of the Northern population._

 _9 A.D.: The dryads and sentient trees stage a number of peaceful protests, gaining, among other things, the right to inter-species marriage._

 _10 A.D.: The ancient city of Magnolia becomes Narnia's capital, largely due to its trade-influenced wealth and strategic position between North and Central Narnia._

 _14 A.D.: The gold market crashes, bringing the economy down with it. The economy struggles for the next nine years, not fully recovering until 23 A.D. The Aslanic and Tashlanian churches, already on the decline, lose any official power previously held in the Paslan government. The North, in particular, is thrown into a depression that cripples the powerful fishing industry._

 _17 A.D.: The magic guilds begin to gain power. Their establishment of the freelancing job system jumpstarts the failing economy and despite the collateral damage, is praised by many economists._

 _19 A.D.: The Magic Council is established, operating outside the Paslan government._

 _29 A.D.: Narnia declares war with Archenland after the murder of thirty-nine civilians held in a prisoner of war camp. The facts of the case are, at best, disputed. The war, while initially applauded as a patriotic response, quickly becomes unpopular. The government quickly begins to lose favor._

 _32 A.D.: After a vicious battle that causes heavy casualties on both sides, the war ends and a peace treaty is signed on October 17. On November 21, the new Paslan is elected._

 _All of which brings us to today. The hidden war crimes of the Aslanic and Tashlanian churches are only the tip of the iceberg. The political clout they still wield today threatens to corrupt the current government. And why, one must ask, was the economy so dependent on gold coin? Where did the funds that the Paslan was "feeding into the economy" go? Why did the government feel the need to make peace with a giant race that was aging and weak? And what really happened to the thirty-nine civilians in Archenland? Our modern history is a long series of unanswered questions, deflected and covered up by the government, and at times, even by the guilds. In asking for change, I am only asking for the right of every citizen: the right to truth._


	2. Chapter 1

I own nothing. All credit goes to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima.

JUNG

It was bitterly cold that night, so cold that only a few snowflakes made it all the way down to the icy street. Jung caught one of the brave ones on an outstretched palm, stifling his coughs for a moment. It melted quickly and Jung shivered, shoving his hands into his pockets and ducking into the nearest bar. His senses were instantly inundated with sound, warmth, and light.

"What!? Gray broke up with his boyfriend again?!" came a shout. Jung raised an eyebrow and headed into the nearest dusty corner, coughing into his elbow. In the center of the bar were the sort of people he liked least; an annoyingly large bunch of idiots making a lot of noise and drama. The shout came from a red-haired girl, who was threatening a spiky haired pinkette with a butter knife. The pinkette in question held up his hands innocently.

"Don't look at me! I had nothing to do with it?"

"Where is Gray now? Juvia is worried…" bemoaned another girl with deep blue locks, throwing her head down on the bar.

"Ah, don't worry. He's probably out brooding like always. Now is the time for drinking!" yelled a decidedly drunk woman with blue tattoo showing on her bare abdomen. Jung squinted, putting one hand to his aching head. It couldn't be. Not that awful, crazy, drunken riot known as—

"—Fairy Tail! We do not quiet down for anyone, no matter which Paslan goonies you call!" the drunken woman yelled at the frightened fawn. Jung looked at the bar tender sympathetically. Poor guy. A dry cough shook Jung's frame and he winced as he stood. This damnable fever. He was getting all warm again, and he wanted to escape back into the icy cold. He stumbled to the door and left the noise behind him, breathing a sigh of relief-only to break out into a fit of coughing.

He stumbled back against the wall, the cold penetrating his lungs cruelly. The fit subsided and he put his hands on his knees, focusing his energy on staying upright.

"Hey man. Are you all right?" Jung looked up, but all he saw were the stars. They were burning like fire tonight.

"Whoa. Easy there," said the voice. Jung was irritated by the voice that kept pulling him away from the stars and the cold body that was suddenly supporting him.

"Leave me alone," he rasped, pushing the stranger away. He stumbled and fell, landing hard on the ice and gazing at the ground in bemusement. The voice sighed and Jung was dragged upright and slung over someone's shoulder.

"What-cough-are you-cough cough-doing?" he muttered.

"Keep quiet," the voice snapped by his head. "You'll just make it worse." Jung was about to retort somehow, but he was interrupted by a coughing fit.

"Wendy, can you come to my place? No, don't make a big deal out of it. I don't want to deal with the noise right now. Yeah, I'm all right. Yeah." Jung struggled to lift his head, confused. Who the hell was Wendy? The stars disappeared and he was met with a wash of warmth again. _Too bad_ , he thought, struggling to breath, _I rather like the cold._

GRAY

Gray watched the kid struggle to breathe with some concern as he kicked open the door to his apartment and laid him down on the bed. He looked younger than Gray did, for God's sake, with a messy mop of brown hair and feverish brown eyes wandering behind large owlish glasses. He was trying to stifle his coughs, to no avail, into one thin, bony hand.

"Hey, I'm-cough cough cough-fine. Just-cough-leave me alone," the young man said. Then the kid's eyes rolled back and he went limp in Gray's arms, breathing harshly. Gray frowned. The guy lived in Magnolia, the richest city north of Aslan's How. The city was bursting with wealth and people and animals from all over the continent, ever since the new Paslan had been elected. Why did he look so wretchedly unhealthy?

"Is he going to be all right?" he asked quietly, without looking up. Wendy stepped in and shut the door quietly behind her, hurrying over to the bed with Charle in her wake. Wendy bent over the kid and put her hands out.

"Yes, I think so," she murmured after a moment, a frown creasing her forehead. "I'll do what I can,"

"What does that mean?" Gray asked, but Charle glared at him as Wendy closed her eyes and started healing.

"Leave her be," Charle said. "She's tired, so this will probably take a lot out of her." Her tone was accusatory, but Gray made no reply. He wasn't in the mood to compromise. The two watched the scene in silence. Under Wendy's hands, the young man's breathing slowly eased and his clenched fists uncurled. Wendy opened her eyes, swaying.

"Are you all right, Wendy?" asked Charle, eyeing her carefully. "You've been training hard lately." Wendy smiled faintly.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm worried about this man though. He was very, very sick, and has been for a while now. I healed his fever, but his lungs are very weak. He's on the verge of malnutrition too."

"I'll take care of him now, Wendy," said Gray, nudging her gently towards the door. "Get some rest." Wendy smiled and took Charle's paw as she left.

"Thanks, Gray. Call me if he gets any worse, OK? Just keep him warm and hydrated, and he should be OK until morning." Gray nodded.

"Oh, Wendy?" She turned. "Don't mention this to the guild, for now. I just want to be left alone for a while." Wendy smiled and nodded. As she shut the door behind her, he sat down by the bed of the patient in question, musing quietly.

Wendy must really be tired, or she wouldn't have left any sick person like that. Well, they had been training hard lately. After what happened down in Archenland...Gray sighed. Well, the North Army had come and the day was saved, but only at great cost. The entire Fourth Legion had been wiped out, and if those centaurs had died, who could—he shook his head, dispelling his dark thoughts. It had just been one of those days. Of course, breaking up with Rawley probably had something to do with it. Gray winced at the thought of the brash young Fawn. Rawley yesterday, Jillian two months ago, Gavin six months before that…what was wrong with him, anyway? He remembered Rawley's accusing eyes and he turned back to the man in front of him. One problem at a time.

The person in question lay deathly still on the bed. Gray sighed. Leaning forward, he stripped off the jacket, then drew back. The poor kid looked even unhealthier now, wearing just plain gray t-shirt under the thin jacket. In fact, he looked downright ghastly in the fluorescent lights, all pale skin and sharp joints.

"Jeez, who wears t-shirts in winter?" muttered Gray, lifting the blanket up and pulling it over the thin body. "Only I'm allowed to do that, idiot." He turned off the overhead light and watched the chest rise and fall. _Such short little breaths…_


	3. Chapter 2

I own nothing. All credit goes to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima. :)

JUNG

He was cold again. Good. He had always liked being cold, ever since he could remember. He had gotten sick again and again when he was little, and his mother had scolded him endlessly for staying outside so long. But he liked being cold. There was a sharp pain to it that somehow verified his existence. Yes, you are alive. You are alive, because the cold can still pierce you with its frozen needles. He must still be alive then. He opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily. What had happened last night, anyway? He felt better than he had in weeks. And where was he?

"Why are you so skinny?" a voice asked suddenly. Jung jumped at the sudden noise, and looked up. A pair of dark, stern eyes met his own. Jung was quite flustered. A half-naked stranger was sitting beside him.

"Uh—I don't know," he stuttered. "It just turned that way." He cringed away from the excessively muscled stranger, wary and frightened. What was this? Had they found him already? He thought that he had erased all of his old history. Magnolia was supposed to be a new start.

"Oy oy," said the stranger. Jung jumped again, and swung his legs off the side of the bed.

"Right, sorry!" he exclaimed. "I'm very sorry to bother you. I'll be off!" He stood, but he only made it three wavering steps before he crumpled to the floor. "Ow…" he muttered.

"Don't be trying to run, kid," said the stranger. Jung looked up at the dark haired man crouched beside him. When had he gotten there? "You had quite the fever last night."

"I'm fine, thank you," muttered Jung, angry. He thought he could handle every derogative name invented, but it was different hearing them in person, even if it was just "kid." Normally, he was locked up in a hidey-hole, reading his colorful nicknames in the leading newspapers. He shook his head. Magnolia was a new start…not that he could remember much. He had been in Magnolia…what, two, three days? He couldn't remember much of anything from the past couple of days. He started as a cold body pulled him up easily and guided his staggering feet back to the bed.

"So what's your name then?" asked the stranger. Jung extended one trembling hand cautiously.

"Jung."

"I'm Gray," said the man, taking his hand with a strong grip. Jung offered a weak smile. Either this man was using a particularly inventive form of interrogation or he didn't know who Jung was; which meant, for now, Jung was as safe as he could be in the house of a stranger.

"I'm sorry I bothered you last night," said Jung politely. A frown creased his forehead. "What did happen last night?"

GRAY

"What did happen last night?" Jung asked, an adorable little confused look crossing his features. Gray raised his eyebrow. What was with this kid? Well, he didn't like to be called a kid. His face had given that away, although his formal and polite speech betrayed none of his feelings. And why didn't he know who Gray was? Not to brag, but everyone in Magnolia knew Fairy Tail. He decided a subtle interrogation was in order. Nothing serious, of course. He liked this kid.

"I found you staggering around on the street and you passed out. I figured you needed a place to crash for the night," said Gray smoothly. Jung pondered this for a moment, then shrugged.

"In any case, I am very sorry to have disturbed you. I will leave immediately," he stated. He attempted to rise again, but Gray stepped forward and put one hand on his shoulder.

"Easy there," he said. "You may be better, but you're still weak." Gray barely caught the flush of anger on the kid's jutting cheekbones again. This Jung kid was disturbingly good at hiding his emotions. Where had he come from? And why was he reacting so calmly to finding out he'd spent an oblivious night in a stranger's house?

"Nevertheless, I don't want to disturb a senior," Jung said weakly, interrupting Gray's thoughts, but he stayed put. God, he looked exhausted. How long had it been since he'd slept properly? Gray brushed aside any remaining thoughts about an interrogation. He was going to feed this kid some proper food and let him sleep.

"As it happens," Gray said abruptly, "I'm looking for a roommate." Jung flinched at his voice—he had been zoning out again. "Are you looking for a place to stay?" The kid eyed him warily. Gray met his gaze steadily.

"I don't have any money for the time being," said Jung, shivering.

"That's fine," said Gray, moving away. He had forgotten to control his body temperature while his mind was wandering. Jeez, the kid was going to get sick again if he wasn't careful. "I'm going to get some food, OK?" he said. "We can talk logistics and whatnot when I get back." Jung nodded slowly and Gray moved to the kitchen quietly. He could hear no sign of the kid over the sound of his own preparations. He summarized what he knew in his head as he heated up some porridge.

The kid-Jung-was young, probably younger than him. He didn't know who Gray was, so either he was a hermit, or he hadn't been living in Magnolia for very long. He was very, very good at keeping his emotions wrapped up under his polite formality. He had probably spent the night in a strange place before, given his reaction to being in a strange place. And Gray had already known that the kid had no money. He had gone through Jung's knapsack the night before. It only held a change of clothes, some empty notebooks, and a pencil. No wallet, no ID, no money. Wendy said that he'd been sick for a long time, and he was obviously still weak, suffering from both lack of food and lack of sleep. So if this kid was from the streets, why did he seem so innocently frail? Gray sighed and put the steaming porridge and a glass of milk on a tray. One step at time.

When Gray reentered the room, though, the kid had fallen fast asleep, curled up tight in the exact center of the bed. Gray looked down at him, curious. Jung's face was scrunched up and he was shivering in the cold winter air that followed Gray through the house. Gray smiled wryly and set the tray down beside the bed. He had closed all the windows last night, but now he went through and turned up the heat, although it made his own body distinctly uncomfortable, and threw a thick blanket over the kid's skinny little frame. He was going to help this kid get better. Damned if he knew why, but Gray knew- _knew_ -this kid was alright.


	4. Chapter 3

I own nothing. All credit goes to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima. :)

JUNG

"So how old are you, k-Jung?" asked Gray, shoveling food in his mouth at a rather alarming pace. Jung looked up from the rice he was picking at, appreciative of Gray's audible correction. He had been here three days, and Gray kept insisting on feeding him and making him sleep.

"I'm eighteen," he said finally. Then he paused and looked up. "Wait, what day is it now?" Gray gave a little smirk that Jung had come to read as mild amusement.

"January 11, 33 A.D."

"Ah, never mind then," said Jung. He had lost track of the dates-his birthday had been six days ago. "I'm nineteen. What about you?"

"Twenty-two," said Gray, in between bites. He didn't comment on Jung's apparent lack of knowledge about his own birth date. Silence fell again between the two. They had barely talked, but Jung had been in worse living situations than this, so he kept quiet. Gray didn't know who he was, but he was unnervingly nice to Jung, in a laconic sort of way, and it unnerved him.

"So…" began Gray. Jung looked up again, glad for an excuse to turn away from his rice. "What do you think of the new Paslan?" Jung kept his face expressionless. So, it was going to be this sort of conversation then, was it? Was Gray fishing for information? Well, every conversation did turn to politics eventually. He'd take a neutral stance. This, he could do.

"He's surprisingly efficient, given his history, but he lacks both strength and resolve," he answered smoothly. "However, the political unrest following the Seventh Archenland Battle caused a lot of turmoil, and a heroic King would only make things worse. The Paslan appeared at exactly at the right moment, politically speaking, although I do not know if he did so intentionally."

Gray raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The two fell into silence again and Jung looked at the blue veins crawling up the back of his hand. The air was cold. Who was this person anyway? He felt as though he were missing something, but he had been distracted for some time, not to mention out of the country.

"Do you want to go shopping today?" asked Gray, rising from the table abruptly. "We can get you some clothes, and anything else you need." Jung almost bit his lip before he caught himself, embarrassed by the attention. He looked down at the baggy sweatshirt which dwarfed his thin frame.

"I'll pay you back," Jung said. Gray nodded. "Can we-" Jung hesitated. Maybe it was too soon. He didn't want to test this…this whatever-it-was-roommate-thing they had going, but he needed some income.

"What?" Gray asked.

"Can we stop by the newspaper office?" asked Jung. "I can pick up a job there." Gray shrugged.

"Sure. Whatever you want." After Gray had dumped the dishes in the sick, they ventured out into the pale, chill morning air. The temperatures had risen from double digits below zero to single digits above zero, but Jung still shivered. It was good to be cold again. Gray was always turning the heat up, and Jung suspected it was for his sake.

"Do you need a coat?" asked Gray, turning to him. Speak of the devil-he had somehow already lost his shirt, wearing only his characteristic necklace. Jung eyed the dark tattoo on Gray's chest subtly. He could've sworn it was a different shape yesterday…

"Jung?" asked Gray. Jung looked up, taking a second to process.

"Hmm? Oh no, the sweatshirt is fine," he answered.

"I don't think I even own a coat, actually," said Gray, smirking. "Right, let's go then!" Jung followed in Gray's wake, keeping his head down. It was all about blending in. Jung noted that Gray's apartment was in the heart of Magnolia, three blocks away from the newspaper office and five from the shops. Even if Jung hadn't been in the country for a while, he knew that an apartment in the center of Narnia's capital had to be terribly expensive. What did Gray do for a living? He hadn't left the apartment in the three days that Jung had been there.

"Oh, that's him!" said a hushed voice. Jung started, but the twittering dryads were looking past him at Gray. Jung narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Him? What were they talking about? Jung didn't need a lot of attention right now, and if hanging out with Gray was going to get him attention…well, maybe he should rethink his living situation. He ducked his head and put a little bit more space between himself and Gray.

GRAY

Gray looked back over his shoulder at Jung. The kid was subtle, but he was definitely scared-well, maybe wary was a better word. He hadn't said anything to Gray-outside of answering his scattered questions-until his little monologue this morning. Gray pondered Jung's words again as they crossed the busy streets of Magnolia. _He's surprisingly efficient, given his history, but he lacks both strength and resolve. The Paslan appeared at exactly the right moment, politically speaking, although I do not know if he did so intentionally._ Gray didn't know exactly know all of what the kid was referring to, but from what he did know, the kid's analysis was spot on. Where had Jung come from? What was he so afraid of? As they walked through the streets, the kid had put his head down, an almost unconscious habit that Gray had noticed in the house as well.

Gray ducked his head under the low door of the newspaper office, an ancient brick building filled with the clatter of typewriters and the smell of ink.

"Gray!" exclaimed a loud voice. "Where have you been?" Jung, coming in behind him, looked up in surprise. Gray made a shushing face at Lucy, jerking his head back towards Jung. He didn't want Jung to know who he was, not just yet anyhow. Everyone he knew saw him as the sexy ice stripper from Fairy Tail, and he enjoyed being the stranger, for once. Lucy looked puzzled, but turned away at the last second. "Later then!" she exclaimed, bounding off with Plue at her heels. Gray looked back at Jung, but the kid said nothing and stepped past him towards the receptionist.

"Hello, my name is Jung. Do you have any proofreading positions available?" The receptionist smiled at Jung's charmed formality.

"We do, as a matter of fact. One of our proofreaders just left. Let me get the director for you," she said. After she had left, Jung turned to Gray.

"You can go ahead, if you want," he said. "I'll just be a little while."

"Sure," said Gray. He didn't want to leave the kid, but he didn't want to seem too curious either. He looked back one more time as he left. Jung was already deep in conversation with the director, who was smiling broadly. The kid certainly had a way with people. He wandered down to the shops, but he couldn't relax. The kid was just-well, he was just-he needed looking after. If the kid could take care of himself, which he obviously could, why had he passed out in Gray's bed? If he could take care of himself, why was he sick, exhausted, and starving to death?

Finally, he spun on his heel and strode back towards the newspaper office. Lucy met him at the door.

"Gray!" Gray smiled. Of course, Lucy would be the first person he saw.

"I didn't know you still worked here," he said, looking around for Jung.

"If you're looking around for your friend," said Lucy, "he left a few minutes ago. But where have you been? Everyone at the guild is worried." Gray frowned. A few minutes ago? He should've met Jung on the way here then. Where was he?

"I'll explain some other time, Lucy. I have to find the kid," he said, turning around. "Oh, and don't tell anyone from the guild about him," he said over his shoulder. Lucy smiled and waved.

"Sure. Come back soon, Gray!" The end of her farewell was lost as Gray stepped into the cold air. Where had Jung gone? Back towards the apartment? He started in that direction, only to pull up short at the corner of the building. He had heard something. He closed his eyes and listened intently. There-low laughter and a stifled cry. Jung.

He sprinted around the corner of the building and towards the back, pulling up abruptly before he reached the narrow alleyway. He peered around the corner, listening intently. His eyes fixed on Jung, who was sprawled on the ground. A wolf paced next to him, laughing quietly. Gray's eyes narrowed. He recognized the sign of one of the lower guilds tattooed on her muzzle.

"Did you think that nobody would recognize you?" she snarled at Jung. She lifted her paw and sent Jung skidding across the ground until he hit the brick wall of the building opposite. Gray clenched his fist. Using magic against a non-magic user, even the low level strength enhancer spells that she was using, was downright unfair. Enough was enough. He walked around the corner casually.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "Am I interrupting something?" The wolf turned and sprang at him, but Gray backhanded her. Ignoring her yelp as she collapsed to the ground, Gray knelt down by Jung's side.

"Jung?" he asked, pulling him up in his arms. The kid looked up at him, eyes unfocused.

"You have no shirt again," the kid murmured, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp in Gray's arms.

"Jeez," muttered Gray, pulling the kid up onto his back. "This is the second time this week, kid." By the time they had reached Gray's street, Jung was stirring.

"I think I'm going to throw up," he said, tumbling off Gray's back unceremoniously. He stumbled to the curb and retched, throwing up the few bites of breakfast that he'd eaten that morning. Gray sighed, supporting him with his hands. He could feel the sharp poke of the kid's shoulder blades under the sweatshirt.

"Sorry," Jung muttered, straightening and pulling away from Gray. He stumbled and Gray caught him, pulling him up. Gray looked down at him-he was a good couple of inches shorter than Gray was-but the kid wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Look, ki-Jung, you probably have a concussion. More importantly—" Gray stopped and looked around. Perhaps the corner of his street wasn't the best place to have this conversation. He pulled Jung up onto his back easily, ignoring the kid's murmured protest, and made his way to the apartment.

"I'm fine," said Jung as the door shut behind them. Gray let him down gently and sat him down in a kitchen chair.

"You're not that fine, actually. What have you been hiding from me?"


	5. Chapter 4

I own neither Fairy Tail nor the Chronicles of Narnia. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima.

JUNG

Jung looked up into Gray's stern, dark eyes, then looked down again.

"Nothing," he murmured finally. "I'm not hiding anything. It just turned out this way. I'm not even supposed to be here," he finished bitterly, rising out of the chair. Gray laid one hand on his shoulder gently.

"Look, kid…" he started. Jung looked away and Gray corrected himself. "Jung, I don't mind secrets, but I do mind when my friends start getting kicked around." Jung scrambled back away from Gray. Friends? What was he talking about? Weren't they just roommates who knew nothing about each other and in fact, had only known each for three days? People didn't just become _friends_ after three days. He didn't make friends.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," he said, quietly and very politely, "but I have inconvenienced you terribly in any case. My departure would probably be the best scenario for your interests."

"And what about you?" asked Gray, his voice rising. "You were really sick, you've barely eaten, you have a concussion, and apparently, you're in danger of getting randomly attacked by magic users. What's going to happen to you if you leave?" Jung shrank away from Gray's exasperation.

"You have secrets too," he retorted. The desperation was creeping into his voice. He had been in hiding for far too long. His defenses were slipping. He never should have come here.

"You want to know my secret? I'm Gray Fullbuster, OK? I'm part of Fairy Tail!" Gray snapped. Jung backed further away, hitting the wall behind him. Gray stood across from him, the tattoo on his chest resolving into the Fairy Tail emblem. Gray Fullbuster? _The_ Gray Fullbuster? Gray—no, Lieutenant Colonel Gray—had single-handedly saved the day at the Battle of Enden. He was infamous both for his stripping and his formidable ice magic. Jung stared at Gray, his defenses shaken for once.

"Look, kid…" said Gray, his tone softening. Jung narrowed his eyes.

"It doesn't matter who you are," he answered, his voice calm again. "Just don't draw any attention to me." Then he turned and walked out the door, snatching his backpack from the chair as he went. He stalked out, breathing a sigh of relief as the cold winter air entered his lungs. He turned at the corner of the building and walked down to the fenced dumpster area. There was a distinct lack of trash and graffiti.

"I should have known as much," muttered Jung. Only in a rich neighborhood like this would such a clean place exist. He was suddenly reminded of the strong smell of fish and tar as he slumped to the ground. He shook his head, clearing his head of the memories. He needed to re-evaluate the situation. Living with Gray Fullbuster…Jung frowned. There were more dangers than he could count attached to that statement. Gray was a member of the military, a powerful mage, an advisor to the Wizard's council, not to mention a celebrity in the _Wizard Weekly_. The attention that Gray drew was far, far too dangerous for someone in Jung's position.

On the other hand, Gray had a point. Where exactly would he go if he stay with Gray? He had no money, he had cut ties with his previous connections, and staying near Gray would automatically give him protection. But he couldn't afford the risk! What if someone found him? Jung started up, suddenly remembering. _Did you think that no one would recognize you?_ How exactly had that wolf recognized him? _No one_ knew his face. He had made sure of that. Right? He looked around warily. He needed to lay low until he found more information. It was time to make some new connections. But he just couldn't stay with Gray. Not anymore.

GRAY

Gray watched Jung out the window with a sigh. The kid just went up the alley next to Gray's apartment and slumped down against the chain link fence. The kid was frowning again, the characteristic wrinkle appearing on his forehead. He hadn't smiled in the three days that he had been here. He was always respectful, wary, quiet. Gray leaned with one hand up against the window sill, watching Jung thoughtfully. What secret could the kid possibly have? It wasn't that he questioned Jung's integrity. Everyone had secrets, and he of all people knew the hardships that came with a hard life. He himself had joined Fairy Tail at the age of seven and the military at the age of seventeen. It was just that he so wanted to help this kid.

 _It doesn't matter who you are. Just don't draw any attention to me_. Jung's words ran through Gray's head again and again. He didn't want to let Jung go out on his own, but the attention he drew would, apparently, put Jung in danger. Had the wolf attacked Jung because of him? There was only one solution. He straightened, just as a flash of movement caught his eye. Jung had straightened very quickly, a strange expression on his face. The kid rose slowly, looking around him like he expected enemies to jump out of the walls. Gray shook his head. There was only one solution and Gray would see it through. He strode to the door and opened it quickly, only to see Jung leaving the alleyway. No. So help him, Jung would not leave like that.

In a quick moment, he had the kid pinned against the wall in the alley. He looked left and right. No one was looking, but just in case, he created a blowing wind of snow around them. Jung said nothing, his eyes wary.

"Jung," said Gray, his hands keeping the shorter man pinned firmly against the wall. "I don't know who you are. I don't care. But I know that you are not a bad person. I'd be honored to be friends with you. And I know that I draw too much attention, but that's OK. We can move. A friend of mine lives in this rundown little neighborhood that wouldn't attract any notice at all. I'll lay low for a while."

Jung looked up. Gray just caught the startled look in his brown eyes before he adjusted his glasses and it disappeared.

"Why would you do that?" Jung asked. "You have nothing to gain from this." His voice, for all its dry formality, was desperately sad.

"I need to get away too," said Gray. "Let's just break from the world for now, hmm?" Jung stared up at him, his eyes still unfocused from his concussion. Finally, he shook his head in resignation.

"Fine," he said. "May we leave right now?"

"Let's leave at night," said Gray. "It'll be less conspicuous." Jung nodded. He didn't smile, but he stopped frowning. That was enough, for now.


	6. Chapter 5

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima.

GAJEEL

Gajeel was woken by a heavy pounding on his door. He groaned and squinted at the clock next to his bed. 3:42 a.m. Who the hell…

"Damn it Natsu, if that is you, I swear I'm gonna make you eat iron," mumbled Gajeel. Lily popped up out the corner.

"Who's that?" he said, his nightcap falling over one eye.

"An idiot," responded Gajeel sourly, stumbling to the door. He stiffened as he caught the scent of the stripper. What was Gray doing here? And where had he been for the past week? He opened the door cautiously, then pulled back. Gray was supporting a slumping figure with one arm and a pile of luggage sat at his feet.

"Gajeel," said Gray, and Gajeel knew at once that this was serious.

"Well, come in stripper," he said, ushering them in with a brusque wave. He grabbed their luggage and threw it inside the tiny closet that served as an entryway in his tiny apartment.

Then he joined Gray in the living room, where the ice maker was sitting a skinny kid into a chair.

"Right, what the hell is this?" said Gajeel, folding his arms. Typical stripper, dumping his boy problems on Gajeel's lap...

"We just need a place to crash," said Gray. "I'm moving to this neighborhood, and I need to stay low for a while." The skinny bean kid said nothing, watching Gajeel cautiously with bleary eyes. Gajeel narrowed his red eyes right back at the bean kid. The bean kid seemed to realize where he was and stood up shakily, bowing formally.

"I am Jung. I am very sorry to disturb your home at this hour. The fault lies on me, and rest assured I will leave as soon as possible," he said. Gajeel raised one eyebrow. He wasn't sure whether he was more intrigued by the kid's frail state, his clear and formal speech, or Gray's worried eyes and supportive hand.

"Hello, Gray," said Lily, joining the group in the living room. "Hello," he said to the bean kid. "I'm Lily." The black cat offered one paw gravely. The bean kid bowed before taking it and shaking it.

"I'm Jung," he offered again. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Gajeel ignored the courtly manners in the corner.

"Gray," he said curtly. "You can stay. Oy, bean kid!" The kid looked up, and Gajeel barely caught the surprise and resentment in his face before it was hidden. "You can sleep on the couch. Stripper, you get the floor."

"The senior should have the couch," offered Jung immediately, gesturing deferentially to Gray. Gray waved the offer aside with one hand and an offhand,

"No, it's all yours." The bean kid—Jung—nodded. An awkward silence fell, but Lily broke it by offering the kid kiwi. Gajeel took the opportunity to pull Gray aside into the kitchen.

"Stripper? Do you want to explain the strange kid you just dumped on my couch? I can't take care of your latest boy toy for you," he said, not entirely angry. He was curious, and he would do anything for Gray, although he'd rather lose to Natsu than admit that. Gray smirked at the words "boy toy."

"He's not my boyfriend, idiot. He passed out in the street and I brought him to my apartment," he answered quietly, glancing towards the open doorway to the living room. Gajeel pulled him further inside.

"Who is he? And what's wrong with him?" the iron dragon slayer demanded quietly.

"I don't know who he is," answered Gray, his face becoming grave in an instant. "He won't tell me what's going on. He got attacked by one of those nasty leech guild members, so he must be of some importance to someone. As for his health, he was really sick. Wendy patched him up for me, but he's still weak, both from the sickness and a concussion from that damn wolf." Gray's speech ended with a snarl against the wolf, who Gajeel presumed was one of the "nasty leech guild members." Gajeel mused for a moment.

Gray, even if he wouldn't admit it, obviously already cared about this Jung. The bean kid seemed harmless enough. Actually, he looked as though he might collapse at any second. He didn't mind if they stayed for a few days.

"One night," grunted Gajeel.

GRAY

"One night," grunted Gajeel. Gray smirked, because he knew that Gajeel would let him stay for quite a while when he had Jung in tow. The kid didn't know what an affect his appearance and mannerisms had on people—or rather, secretly soft-hearted dragon slayers. He punched Gajeel by way of thanks, and headed towards the living room.

He met Lily at the door, who held a paw to his mouth. _He's asleep_ , the cat mouthed. Gray nodded and quietly snuck to the side of the couch. Sure enough, Jung had fallen asleep again. Strangely, the kid never looked more peaceful when he was asleep. If anything, the circles under his eyes looked darker and the sharp bones of his features more pronounced. Also, Jung woke up with nightmares at least once a night, although neither he nor Gray ever acknowledged it.

Gajeel laid a hand on his shoulder and Gray started. This kid…he even lost sight of Gajeel's heavy presence when he was looking at that drawn, pale face. Gajeel raised an eyebrow (he had been doing that a lot this morning) and handed Gray a pile of blankets, nodding towards the kid. Gray nodded and offered a genuine smile to Gajeel. That was the spirit of Fairy Tail, and Gray appreciated Gajeel's blunt kindness. Gajeel just grunted and disappeared into his own bedroom. Lily lingered for a moment to pat the kid's head in a strangely benevolent way before he too disappeared. Gray smiled. Gajeel and Lily both…what a pair. He unfolded one of the blankets and spread it over Jung. It easily dwarfed the kid's small frame, and Gray added another on top of it. Then he spread out a blanket for himself on the floor and slept.

He was woken by two sounds, a gasp and a whimper. Gray sprang up, immediately alert. Had someone found them? Then he took in the situation. On the couch, Jung's forehead wrinkled and he murmured something inaudible, obviously distressed in his sleep. And at the door of the entry way stood Levy McGarden, looking very startled.

Gajeel appeared out of nowhere and drew Levy into the entryway, waving Gray towards Jung as he did so. Gray shook his head, and elected to tend to the situation at hand.

"No…don't…the Tashlanian church still holds tremendous power…ahppa…please…" the kid mumbled, growing more distressed. Gray held one hand over Jung's shoulder, hesitating. The last time Gray had tried to get something out of the kid, he had almost run away. How would Jung react if Gray saw him like this? He hadn't had such bad nightmares while he was in Gray's apartment, but he was still recovering from the concussion in yet another new environment.

Jung let out a piercing shriek, effectively making Gray's decision. He shook Jung gently. The kid awoke instantly, bolting upright and pushing Gray away as he stumbled off the couch. He almost landed flat on his face in his waking fear, and Gray caught him, sitting him back down on the couch.

"Jung, it's OK. It's just me. We're in Gajeel's house. You're OK. Nobody is going to hurt you here," he said, kneeling with both hands on Jung's shoulders. Jung looked at him for a moment, awareness and shame replacing the panic in his eyes. The kid's face grew cold, and he stood stiffly.

"It seems I must apologize once again—" he broke off his bow and stiffened as he caught the sound of voices. Instantly, he scampered around the corner of the couch.

"No, it's OK," soothed Gray. No one should be that scared, not with Fairy Tail. "It's just Levy. She surprised me too, but she's good. She's a kind person and she won't tell anyone we're here. You're OK."

"I'm quite aware of my own physical safety. I do not need to be coddled," whispered Jung stiffly. Gray turned away, more affected by the scene than he'd like to admit. He stood and walked quickly to the entryway, where he found a concerned Levy and a slightly-more-gracious-in-the-presence-of-Levy Gajeel.

"Is he OK?" asked Levy. Gray shushed them. The kid was unerringly smart and at the moment, wary and terrified. He could probably hear them well enough if he tried.

"I'll tell you later," he whispered to Levy. "Can you not tell anyone we're here? We really need to lay low for a while." Levy nodded. Then she gave a smile to Gajeel (a specific smile, Gray noticed, that she reserved for Gajeel) and a wave to Gray before softly making her way out of Gajeel's cramped apartment.

"So what is Levy McGarden doing visiting your house in the early morning?" asked Gray of Gajeel, smirking. Gajeel frowned and promptly punched Gray.

"Shut up, stripper."

"She's gone?" asked a voice. The pair turned to find a wary Jung hesitating in the doorway.

"Relax, bean kid," said Gajeel. "Your shrieking is more dangerous than Levy." Gray caught the flush on Jung's jutting cheekbones and he flashed Gajeel a scolding look. Did the stupid iron-eater know nothing of tact? Gajeel merely scowled in return and turned back to Jung.

"Anyway, go back to sleep. You look like you're about to collapse." Jung stiffened and Gray recognized the defiance that inexplicably defined the kid.

"I believe I have acquired the sleep necessary to function adequately," he said, and repaired to the couch, pulling out the notebook and pen from his backpack. Interested, Gray peeked around the doorway. Jung hadn't written anything yet, in the three (four?) days he had been with Gray. Who was he?

"I'll get kiwis," intoned Lily gravely. Gray jumped, almost tripping over the cat on his way to the kitchen.

"Geez, Lily," he breathed. "Make some noise, will ya?"

"An awful lot of people are getting the jump on you stripper," drawled Gajeel. "Something on your mind?" Gray froze Gajeel's hair in response. In fact, the only reason a full-out brawl didn't destroy Gajeel's apartment that morning rested in the person of one thin, furiously-scribbling Jung.


	7. Chapter 6

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima.

LEVY

Levy McGarden stepped into the hectic newspaper office with some trepidation. She much preferred the quiet of a used bookstore or a library, but Lu-chan had asked her to stop by before they went to lunch together.

"Levy!" exclaimed the blonde in question, rushing up to hug Levy enthusiastically. "It feels like I haven't seen you in ages!"

"That's because you haven't been to the guild in ages," said Levy commented. Lucy pouted.

"Well, between the Hull fiasco and that stupid flamebrain Natsu, I haven't been able to make it back for any jobs in a week."

"Hull fiasco? Hull, as in the left-wing reporter?" questioned Levy, not-so-subtly dragging Lucy out of the warm, inky bustle of the newspaper office and into the frosty, clattery one of the street.

"He's not a _reporter_ ," emphasized Lucy, heading towards Levy's favorite bookstore/coffee shop. She lowered her voice as they passed a large group of dryads. "He's a…radical, a decidedly controversial pamphlet writer. He certainly isn't employed by any of the major newspapers, but his pamphlets get distributed _everywhere_ —I don't know how—and that left-wing newspaper…well here's the coffee shop. I'll tell you all about it when we get in. Gossip is running rampant at the office," she confided as they approached the counter.

"Well, well. If it isn't Miss Levy," chimed a cheerful voice behind the counter. Levy smiled at the cheeky young Calormene behind the counter.

"Hello, Rikish. Up to no good?" she asked, handing the money over. Rikish grinned wickedly, ringing up her familiar order with nimble fingers.

"Always. You know I'm a trouble-maker." Levy shook her head at him, half-concerned, and led Lucy to a quiet corner booth.

"Who is that?" asked Lucy, smiling hugely. Levy sighed. Lucy was as bad as Mirajane sometimes.

"That's just Rikish. I'm a bit worried about him…" she mused, putting her chin in her hands thoughtfully.

"Why are you worried about _just_ Rikish?" asked Lucy teasingly, but she sobered when Levy sighed.

"Well, you know this bookstore is a…" Levy paused, not sure how to describe the unique establishment. Although the old building was located in the heart of Magnolia, its drab and ramshackle appearance scared away most of the visitors that managed to find it. Inside, precarious stacks of books and dusty antiques lined a winding pathway to a small, shabby dining area. The walls were lined with old newspaper articles and posters with titles like PATHOLOGICAL PASLAN POISONS PEOPLE.

"…a fiery Radical hide-out?" said Lucy, breaking Levy's train of thought and finishing her sentence.

"Well, yeah," said Levy. "I like it for the books, you know. Anyhow, I'm always afraid that Rikish will get caught up in Paslan-Radical melee." Lucy nodded understandingly.

"Ah. Well, things are getting heated," she said conspiratorially. "That's what I wanted to tell you about. Mind you, you can't tell anyone," she warned. Levy crossed her fingers solemnly. "Right," continued Lucy immediately. "So, Hull was publishing from this red-hot paper called _The True Narnian_. In the old days, they published a lot of pro-giant and pro-North propaganda, you know. But right around the time Narnia declared war, they started printing Hull articles almost exclusively." Levy nodded, wincing at the mention of the war. It was a miracle that they had managed to get back from that last battle at all.

Lucy fell silent for a moment as well. Levy, seeing the shadows creep into her friend's eyes, nudged her.

"So? Hull articles? Why is he considered so radical anyways?" she asked. Lucy came back with a start.

"Because he's questioning the Paslan, for one," said Lucy. "The new Paslan is wonderful, you know, and Narnia's economy is flourishing marvelously. He keeps questioning the "resolve" of the new Paslan, warning that things aren't over with Archenland, nattering on about a great "enemy" that's going to come, and asking for truth."

"I take it you don't really like him," said Levy, raising an eyebrow at Lucy's tone. Lucy sighed, then leaned in closer.

"Don't get me wrong, I respect his moxy," she said softly. "But even though we're at peace, it's not safe to just go spouting off ideas like that." She shivered. "I don't know how it happened, but somehow _The True Narnian's_ building was ransacked and burned to the ground, by a crazed Aslanic group or something. That was almost two weeks ago, and Hull's articles have completely stopped. The Aslanic group claims to have killed him." She shivered again. "Let's stop talking about it." Levy complied, although she was curious. She had heard rumor of the fire and it sounded like a nasty business all around. Perhaps it was better left alone.

JUNG

Jung cast the deep hood over his face and set off through the streets cautiously. He was wearing a sweatshirt that Gajeel had kindly thrown over his face this morning and it was doing a very satisfactory job of dwarfing Jung's entire person. Jung slunk into the busier part of Magnolia slowly, avoiding the main streets. He had managed to work out a deal with the newspaper editor (via mail) and start proof-reading at home, but he needed to build a new network here. Finally, he found the battered wooden sign, barely visible through the grime. _Chake Coffee_. Jung ignored the questionable romanization and entered silently.

"What can I do for you?" asked a bright voice. He looked up to see a young Calormene human behind the counter. Jung eyed the cashier suspiciously. According to his intel (which was admittedly old), this should be a good starting place.

"I'm looking for a particular book," said Jung. " _The Juniper Enigma_." The Calormene's eyes went wide and in an instant he had ducked around the counter.

"Follow me," he said and firmly led Jung among slanted piles of books to a remote corner. There, he pulled a key hanging from around his neck and unlocked a thick oak door, pushing Jung roughly into a very dusty, dark room. Jung sneezed, his sensitive lungs reacting to the dust, as the Calormene shut the door behind them and switched on a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Who are you? And why are you here?" the Calormene asked, his voice suddenly harsh. Jung looked up to the barrel of a pistol, a faint glow indicating magical enhancements. He put up his hands, slowly pulling back his hood. It wasn't the first time he'd been held at gunpoint, but he found that the experience didn't improve with time.

"I was told that there were some here who read _The Juniper Enigma_ ," answered Jung cautiously. "The giants faced their demise with a grace that, in light of their brutal history, was somewhat ironic." His interrogator relaxed when he heard the quote from Chapter Three of the book in question, but he still kept his pistol firmly aimed at Jung's head.

"Why are you here?" he asked again.

"I'm looking for a True Narnian," replied Jung, very softly. The Calormene lowered his gun altogether and looked Jung up and down suspiciously.

"You're terribly young, aren't you?" he questioned. Jung raised an eyebrow. Look who was talking.

"My age is irrelevant to the question at hand," he answered curtly. "I am simply looking for a base." The Calormene laughed softly, the sound mocking and shrill.

"You? Even if you are part of the Hull party—which I doubt, by the way—there's no way you can just come out of nowhere and get your own _base_." Jung merely smiled, thin-lipped.

"Regardless of what you believe, I am politely requesting a base anyway," he said. Then he gestured towards the knife tucked into the Calormene's boot. There was one way to prove his identity, although he hated it. "May I?"

"No," came the flat response. "But I'll willingly slice you up."

"Very well," said Jung. He held out his hand. The Calormene grinned, cheery once again as he pulled his knife out, and in a moment had slashed Jung's palm across, leaving a welling gash. Then as the greenish glow of a magic array filled the air, the Calormene pulled back aghast, the grin falling from his face.

"No—you couldn't be…" he stammered. "M-my apologies. I'll get something set up."

"Thank you," said Jung gravely. It was not until the Calormene had left that he fell to his knees, clutching his left hand.

GRAY

"Oy, stripper. Stop it," barked Gajeel. Gray, who was pacing the length of Gray's living room restlessly, merely glared at him and continued pacing. Gajeel sighed. "Will you relax? I gave him a sweatshirt and everything." Gray merely scowled again, partly at the thought of Gajeel's musky scent all over Jung and partly because he was worried sick. Jung had disappeared this morning. He had been sending a flurry of letters to the post office for a couple of days, but when Gray had woken up this morning, he was gone.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" asked Gajeel. Gray shrugged absently. "Didn't you just break up with that Ramone-whoever person?"

"Shut up," snapped Gray. "This is serious. Someone's trying to kill this kid, Gajeel." Gajeel subsided. Eventually, seeing that Gray was going to keep pacing until the floor wore out, he left for the guild, followed by Lily. Gray stopped for moment to slam his hand against the wall, frustrated. Who the bloody hell was this kid? And why wouldn't he let Gray help him, for God's sake? The front door creaked at that moment, as if to answer his question. Gray spun around to see a wary, quiet Jung, drowning in one of Gajeel's giant sweatshirts.

"Where have you been?" he asked, his tone sharper than he meant it to be.

"I have been attending to business," answered Jung cryptically, pulling off the sweatshirt and shivering.

"Just leave it on," said Gray, wrinkling his nose. The kid was always shivering and he already stunk of Gajeel anyway. The kid shook his head soberly and slipped past Gray to the kitchen, where he had started writing as of late. Gray kicked the offensive sweatshirt aside and followed Jung to the kitchen, where he was already pulling out his notebook and pen. Gray frowned as he noticed a bandage on Jung's left hand. He slipped around to that side of the table and grabbed Jung's wrist.

As firm and sudden as the movement was, Gray tried to be gentle but Jung winced as soon as the ice mage's fingers came into contact with his skin.

"What happened?" asked Gray. "Did someone attack you? Let me take a look."

"No—" gasped Jung, but Gray had already taken off the crude bandage. Then he pulled back, startled. Jung's left palm was slashed across, leaving a gaping wound that seeped blood. More significantly, the wound oozed magic. The feeling was similar to that of remnants of certain arrays, but it had a strange, foreign current to it that Gray didn't recognize. He looked up at Jung. The kid looked positively gray. Whatever magic had been used on him—for Gray was certain that Jung did not have magic—it was obviously very painful.

"Who did this?" asked Gray curtly. The kid didn't respond immediately. Gray's eyes softened minutely. Jung's face was one he had seen too many times; that of someone trying too hard to hide the pain he was in.

"No one," hissed Jung finally. "It's nothing."

"Look, Jung," said Gray helplessly. "What can I do to make you trust me?" Jung shrugged, then let out a tiny gasp as the movement pulled his left arm. Blood was trickling down his wrist and onto Gray's hand at a somewhat alarming rate. "Just stay still for a minute," Gray admonished gently, releasing Jung's wrist and rummaging through the kitchen for a first aid kit. Fortunately, Gajeel kept one underneath the sink (Levy had something to do with that) and Gray pulled up a chair. What would he even do with this? The strange, lingering magic didn't look like it was helping things. The nasty gash was steaming slightly and blood was running freely from the wound and down Jung's arm. The kid was getting even more pale than usual, if such a thing was possible.

"Just hang on," murmured Gray. He took Jung's hand gently and pressed a towel down firmly on the wound. Jung yelped, his self-control slipping further by the second, his face deathly pale. "We have to stop the bleeding," Gray explained, as much for his own sake as for Jung's. "Can you tell me what kind of magic it was, at least?" Jung shook his head with a minute movement.

"I'm very sorry," the kid whispered, his voice laced with tension. "It'll be fine in a few weeks, if you just bandage it up."

"A few weeks? Has this happened before?" asked Gray. Jung eyed him for a moment, then nodded tentatively. Gray frowned and put more pressure on Jung's hand. The bandage was almost soaked through, but the bleeding had almost stopped. The wound itself, while deep, wasn't particularly threatening. _Although you never know with this kid_ , thought Gray. He disinfected the cut and stitched it up, noticing three more scars that crossed Jung's palm underneath the fresh stitches. Jung was silent, save for the occasional gasp of pain. Whatever magic it was, it must be doubly painful to a non-magic user.

"Thank you," said Jung stiffly when Gray had finished. His voice lacked the usual defiance however, and he really looked as though he was about to pass out.

"You should eat something," said Gray, wiping the blood off the table and washing his hands. Jung merely shook his head. "You should," repeated Gray, worried.

"I'd just throw it up," murmured Jung, flushing. Then he picked up his pencil again and started scribbling again with his right hand, careful to keep his left hand free of the paper. Gray shook his head behind Jung's back. What had Wendy said? The kid was on the verge of malnutrition. He needed to eat something, for God's sake. He needed to eat and sleep and tell Gray what the hell was going on. He wandered out into the living room and slumped into the couch moodily.

When he awoke, the light coming in through the windows was gray. Snowflakes fell heavy and fast outside and the battered alarm clock on the side table said it was 3:17 in the afternoon. Gray stirred and yawned, than he sat bolt upright. _Jung_. He jumped to his feet and skidded to a halt at the kitchen door. Jung was fast asleep, his head pillowed on his hands on top of his open notebook. Gray tiptoed over and gently lifted the kid straight from the chair and into his arms, wrinkling his nose at the traces of Gajeel that clung to the kid.

Jung didn't even stir, but merely lay deadweight in Gray's arms. Gray laid him down on the couch, piling blankets on him. He brushed aside the tousled brown hair and laid a hand on Jung's forehead.

"Low grade fever," he muttered to himself. Then he straightened and snuck back to the kitchen table. What had Jung been working so hard on? He picked up the notebook and turned to the last page written on, noting Jung's clear handwriting.

… _Aslanic extremists were not responsible for this violent debacle. This is the result of a repressive government, lashing out against those who would dare to question their so-called "Era of Goodness." They tried to kill me, but I have returned stronger than ever. They tried to kill the truth, but it burns all the clearer._

 _-Hull_


	8. Chapter 7

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima.

GRAY

Gray stared down at the notebook in his hands, aghast. _Hull_? Jung was Hull? Gray frantically searched his memories for what little he knew about the mysterious left-wing writer. He was anti-Paslan, had protested against the war in Archenland…hadn't that Aslanic radical group claimed to kill him? Gray shook his head, unable to reconcile such a fiery charisma with the thin kid sleeping on the couch. He looked again at the final words. _They tried to kill me, but I have returned stronger than ever. They tried to kill the truth, but it burns all the clearer._

Stronger than ever? This so-called figurehead of rebellious strength lay pale and wretched on his couch. Gray shut the notebook quickly, rolling it up and stuffing it into his pocket as the front door opened and let in a gust of cold air. He jumped to the side of the couch, suddenly anxious. Everything was beginning to fall into place, and Jung's paranoia certainly wasn't misplaced. Even he had heard about the very legitimate death threats directed towards Hull.

He tensed, preparing to fight, but it was only Gajeel and Lily.

"What the hell, stripper," said Gajeel, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper when he saw Jung's sleeping form. "You're almost as pale as bean kid over there and just as jumpy." Gray didn't relax. He didn't know what to do with this new information. Should he tell Gajeel? Should he tell anyone? He automatically began to size up the defensive assets available in Gajeel's shabby apartment. If an attacker came, he needed to be prepared. But what kind of attacker should he prepare for?

"Gray!" barked Gajeel. The unexpected noise jolted Gray out of his temporary panic and Jung from a troubled sleep. Jung tensed instantly, his expression just barely concealing the raw terror and panic in his eyes. Gray didn't dare look at him directly for fear that his own expression might give something away to Gajeel. The aforementioned iron-eater was beginning to look aggravated. "Something I should know?" Gajeel demanded gruffly of Gray with frightening insight. Gray breathed one silent sigh. He had to stay calm. Jung looked like he was about to collapse.

"Why would I tell _you_ anything?" the ice-mage replied snarkily, keeping his tone light. He had to find a way to calm Jung down. Gajeel narrowed his red eyes at Gray, but Lily kept his solemn eyes fixed on Jung's face. Gray began to tense involuntarily. The kid was _really_ good at keeping his features more-or-less in control, but he was beginning to panic.

"Gajeel," broke in Lily unexpectedly. "I have a duel with Happy this evening. I had quite forgotten about it. Will you be my second?" Everyone in the room stared for a moment.

"A duel?" asked Gajeel skeptically. "Why not just call it scrappy little brawl?"

"You don't appreciate the concept of honor," sniffed Lily, already heading for the door. Gray thanked the gods for Lily's keen grasp of social tact (a skill in which Gajeel was severely lacking) and turned to kneel by the couch even before the front door had shut. Jung said nothing, his eyes wide and his muscles tense.

"I know who you are and I swear on the name of Fairy Tail that I will not give your secret to anyone without your permission," blurted Gray, automatically clasping one of Jung's shaking hands in both of his own. Jung remained silent. His expression had disintegrated and the kid—damn it all, he was so _scared_. The kid's entire frame was quivering in terror.

"Damn it, kid! I'm not going to hurt you," whispered Gray finally, looking up into Jung's brown eyes. "I'll protect you. I'll protect _Hull_." Jung jumped at the sound of his pseudonym.

"I can't trust you," the kid finally managed to choke out. "I can't, I can't, I can't. I can't trust anyone." His voice wavered, lacking its usual bite of defiance and sheen of respect. Gray took Jung's face in both hands gently, forcing the kid to meet his gaze.

"I _swear_ on the spirit of Fairy Tail and the name of the First that I will not betray you. I am your friend," said Gray forcefully. Jung opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Gray released him and sat beside him, waiting for the kid to break the silence.

JUNG

Jung believed that he had forgotten how to breathe. The last time he hadn't been able to breathe, he had been coughing and retching in a smoke-filled basement, trying to escape from _The True Narnian's_ cramped headquarters. How? How could he get out of this? A thousand escape plans were born and died before they hatched, filling his mind with raw, red-tinged panic and making his head ache. He put his head in his hands, suddenly trying not to cry.

It was too much. The terror of almost being consumed by fire, the blurred panic of a fevered journey to Magnolia, the paranoia that came with the unfamiliar, the sick dread at being recognized, now this. He _couldn't_ —he choked, unable to keep the fear contained. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to do. His heart rate sped at a frightening pace as he struggled to breathe. He didn't know what to do. He slid bonelessly off the couch, ignoring the muffled shouting that came beside him.

He curled up into a ball with his hands over his ear, somehow painfully aware of the floor grinding against his bones, and utterly unable to breathe properly. It wasn't that he hadn't been in danger before, but this…everything was coming too fast, too much and he was _all alone_.

GRAY

Gray waited for the kid to respond, but he didn't. If anything, he looked increasingly terrified. Gray bit his lip as the kid put his head into his hands. Was he in pain or was he just scared? Then Jung began to hyper-ventilate, sliding limply off the couch and onto the ground.

"Jung? _Jung!_ " snapped Gray, crouching down beside the curled figure. Jung's eyes were barely open, his fingers splayed against the floor and his tiny body shaking. He was struggling to breathe.

"Jung! Come on kid! Breathe!" Gray commanded, shaking the kid's shoulder. The kid only shook harder in response. Gray could just see blue beginning to shade his lips.

" _God_ ," breathed Gray. Jung wasn't breathing. This wasn't just fear, this was a goddamn panic attack, and Gray didn't know what the hell to do. This kid wasn't like Fairy Tail, or Rawley, or anyone Gray had met in his life. He was a tiny, ferocious puzzle of contradiction and right now he lay dying in front of Gray's very eyes. _Dying_? Gray shook his head frantically. This would not happen. He forcibly pulled the kid up into his arms and stumbled backwards onto the couch.

"Jung," he said softly, tightening his arms around the shaking figure and leaning his head down until his lips brushed Jung's ear. "Jung, listen to me. Breathe, OK? Breathe." Jung gasped frantically and Gray forced himself to raise his own body temperature as high as he could without injuring himself. "Jung, just breathe," he said again, rubbing his hand up and down the knobby spine. "I'm right here."

"H-hyung?" Jung finally choked out, his frantic eyes meeting Gray's. Gray frowned. What the hell? Still, speech meant that he was breathing, right?

"Yes, hiyoung. It's me," he answered, stumbling over the unfamiliar term of address. "Can you breathe for me?" Jung looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded, his breath coming a tad easier.

"There you go, kid," said Gray, using one arm to pull a blanket around Jung. The movement seemed to bring the kid to the reality of his position. Jung frowned and attempted to lift his head from Gray's chest, not quite cognizant, but slowly becoming more aware. Gray just tucked the blanket in tighter and pulled his own legs up onto the couch, wrapping his arms around Jung.

"G-Gray," murmured Jung. "Hyung, I—I," he couldn't stop shaking and Gray raised his body temperature a few more degrees, wincing slightly. This wasn't exactly healthy, but Jung was in more danger of injury than he was.

"Just relax," said Gray, expecting the kid to give in after the shock. To his surprise, Jung elbowed him. The action didn't have much force, so Gray let go more out of surprise than anything else. Jung tumbled off the couch for the second time that afternoon and remained on hands and knees, still breathing hard. He was still trembling and he looked confused, but Gray recognized the defiant corner of his mouth, fading in and out as Jung tried to concentrate on breathing.

"OK, OK," he said, recognizing Jung's position. "I'll get up and you can stay on the couch." When Jung didn't reply, he scooped the kid up and deposited him onto the couch before he could protest.

"What are you going to do?" gasped Jung faintly, wearily.

"I am going to get you some soup," said Gray firmly, satisfied that Jung was breathing and more-or-less restored to his usual (albeit unhealthy) state. "Then we will buy an apartment that is reasonably secure. Then I will make sure you stay safe," he finished. He was beyond the point of being surprised at his vehemence. There was no denying his strong feeling to protect this kid.

ERZA

Gray hadn't been at the guild for too long and Erza intended to do something about it. Instinctively sensing that Gajeel's over-long moping at the guild recently had something to do with it, she marched to his house and slammed open the door, confronting a cranky-morning Gajeel with hands on her hips.

"'the hell?" muttered Gajeel.

"Where is Gray?" demanded Erza.

"Not here," grunted Gajeel, seeing that Erza was in no mood to be denied. "He left three days ago."

"Why hasn't he shown up at the guild? It's not like that bratty little Fawn was that fond of him," Erza snapped.

"Go find him and ask him yourself," said Gajeel. Erza eyed him suspiciously. There was something going on here that Gajeel wasn't talking about. Gajeel wasn't intimidated however, and stared back at her, his red eyes revealing nothing.

"Fine," she snapped, turning on her heel and walking back into the slushy excuse of an alley that constituted for a street. She would search the city all day if she had to. The ice-mage had no viable excuse for abandoning Fairy Tail that long. Her anger, of course, was merely the front for a swift-running worry, but anger was easier to handle and Erza kept it that way. As it turns out, she did not have to search long.

"Erza!" Gray's voice hissed. She turned around at the sound, already opening her mouth. But Gray's anxious face stilled her tirade before it began. The ice-mage was beckoning her into a cold alleyway, which he promptly sealed a blowing wall of snow before facing Erza.

"What's wrong?" she asked gravely. Gray looked like he hadn't slept in days. _Gray_ looked like that. Determined, but too pale, with circles beginning to appear under his eyes.

"I can't talk about it," said Gray tersely. "But I knew you wouldn't back down, so I pulled you aside to tell you just that. I can't talk about it, so leave me alone and make sure no one else comes looking for me. I can't draw any attention right now." Erza frowned.

"Are you scared?" she asked, the words coming out harsher than she'd intended. "Are you forgetting which guild you belong to? Who is pursuing you that you feel the need to hide rather than fight? Why won't you ask your friends for help?" she demanded sternly. This cowardly behavior was downright wrong.

"It's complicated," hissed Gray, unphased by the stinging words. "Look," he said, seeing Erza's hurt behind her anger, "it's not that I don't want to come back and enlist the guild. I just _really_ need to lay low and not draw any attention to myself, and you have to admit that Fairy Tail is the worst possible guild in that particular department." Erza couldn't deny this truth, but Gray's apparent fear of fighting remained an issue.

"And why can't you fight? Surely they aren't too much alone?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. They hadn't fought any significant enemies since the final battle of the war. Gray shook his head, smiling an ironic little grin of his own.

"It's complicated," he repeated again. "I'll tell you this, and you can tell the guild this if you wish: I need to lay low. It's not for my own sake, but for the sake of a friend. For his sake, please, _please_ don't draw any attention to me. Besides, Gajeel is helping me keep an eye on this neighborhood. I'll be able to tell you more eventually." Erza pulled away, partially satisfied. The mysterious friend at least explained most of Gray's strange actions. She knew that Gray was tenaciously loyal to Fairy Tail, despite his near-daily fights with Natsu, and she also sensed that he had been having a difficult time for a while, which would explain the string of significant others he had managed to pick up and leave in a matter of months.

"Very well," she said finally. "I will pass your message onto the guild and ensure that no one comes looking for you. But, if you need any assistance in locating these enemies or defeating them, please contact us immediately." Gray nodded and let the snow shield fall, instantly leaping out of sight. Erza returned to the guild and relayed the cryptic message, as bewildered as her guild mates, but determined to help in whatever way they could.

JUNG

Jung watched Gray spring out of the alleyway, tumbling through the open window a moment later. Jung shivered contentedly in the resulting wash of cold air. Gray, who had finally begun to realize that Jung liked being cold, merely wrinkled his nose at Jung and shut the window firmly, trapping the cold outside. Jung sighed.

He had decided to trust Gray, primarily because like he didn't have much of a choice otherwise. The forceful mage scared him, but he hadn't betrayed Jung so far. Plus, with the first round of Hull pamphlets since the fire just delivered around Magnolia, Jung couldn't afford any time to needless worry. The thought spurred him to scurry back to the corner where the table was littered with documents. He had given up trying to conceal his work, throwing himself into his work with all of his feeble strength. Gray joined him a moment later, sitting and quietly watching Jung work.

They had barely spoken in the past few days. Gray had actually rented a house and had spent the last few days making an obnoxious amount of noise in what Jung hoped was attempts to make the house more defensible. He had only accompanied Jung to _Chake Coffee_ once, and at that point they were both trying not to get recognized, so any conversation was wasted. This was the first time they had been in close proximity in the house itself for a while.

Jung scribbled on, nervous in Gray's presence. As expected, the first round of pamphlets had raised a firestorm and he was hard-pressed to keep up with the aftermath.

"Is it just you?" asked Gray. Jung stopped writing and looked up. Could he be trusted that far? As if to read his thoughts, Gray sighed and looked him straight in the eyes earnestly. Jung bit his lip, aware that his defenses were once again beginning to unravel in front of that gaze. He flushed faintly at the memory of his breakdown and elected to look away.

"Yes," he said, picking up his pencil again. Gray already knew who he was. There wasn't much point in trying to hide the details behind that revealing fact. "I am completely unaffiliated with the so-called 'Hull Party.'"

"What was the magic lingering around the wound on your hand?" Jung looked up again at the unexpected turn in the questioning, but Gray looked genuinely curious. He sighed, giving up on his current work, and reluctantly faced the ice-mage.

"The _shibbolarach_ ," he explained flatly. Gray's quick intake of breath told him that the ice-mage had heard of the painful identification verification process. The array had to be placed dormant in the body of the user—not an experience that Jung cared to remember—and then triggered by a specific blood-letting ritual. The array, once activated, sprang to life and forcefully impressed the identity of the user on the interrogator. The problem was that it was a strong array. Only a very skilled mage could place it in the user's body and its activation took a toll on the body of the user. In Jung's case, since he was not a magic-user and had relatively little physical strength, the experience left him exhausted and usually in pain.

"What are you trying to do?" came Gray's next question. He looked puzzled. Jung let one corner of his mouth set in exasperation. How was he supposed to answer such a vague question? Still, he had gathered that until now, Gray hadn't actually taken much interest in politics outside of Fairy Tail and the army, since he was forced to navigate those two in such a public manner. Until he met Jung that is. Jung frowned, once again forgetting to manage his expression in front of Gray.

"It's complicated," he said, unwittingly copying Gray's words to Erza earlier. "There's a lot of things that the government isn't telling us, and the populace, beyond having the right to the truth, is actually in legitimate danger as a result." Now it was Gray's turn to frown and he did so. Jung didn't like the expression. It left Gray looking angry, which was an intimidating sight.

"Does it have to do with the attempt on your life?" Gray asked. Despite his euphemism, Jung's pace quickened at the memory. Gray must have seen the reaction flicker because he reached across and place one hand on Jung's. Jung snatched it away, embarrassed that he gave himself away so easily in front of this man. _Damn it_.

"Partially," he responded snippily. "The Paslan isn't really responsible here. He's merely a figure-head, and even if he is a bit dull, he serves his purpose well. For the moment, the Paslan is relatively harmless." He was getting into stride now, and his words tumbled out as he forgot his fear of Gray. "The bigger issue is the influence of the Aslanic and Tashlanian churches. I believe the Aslanic church, despite the lack of substantial proof of _official_ position, is highly entangled with the more destructive faction that exists in the House. As for the Tashlanian church, I am certain they have definite ties to Archenland." Gray jolted at the mention of the country, but Jung barely noticed it, continuing impatiently.

"In any case, the religious sects still have a great deal of political clout, not to mention a large amount of funding from private individuals. What I'm worried about is the effects of the increasingly hostile factionalism," he said, wearily turning back to his paper. "The turmoil is becoming dangerous, and someone will undoubtedly try and take advantage of that."

"Not to sound unkind, but aren't you making the turmoil worse?" asked Gray, using Jung's own word against him wryly. Jung scowled.

"It's too late to _conceal_ it," he snapped. "I am trying to warn the populace and prompt the less dangerous members of the House to rally and oppose the Aslanic faction. The best we can hope for is the ability to defend ourselves when the enemy's attack inevitably comes." He turned away, unwilling to speak more. Damn it, he hadn't meant to reveal this much. As usual, it was Gray's pervasive presence that prompted him to act irrationally.

Gray remained quiet when Jung turned back to his work, soon absorbed by the complicated details that demanded his attention. The two sat in silence as the snow began to fall once again, turning the sky outside the window a fuzzy gray.


	9. Chapter 8

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima.

HULL

 _I must appeal to those members of the House that still retain some shred of honor, of decency. You MUST rise up against those members who cling to the Aslanic church. This fanged serpent is hiding behind their defenseless group of sincere believers, using them as a shield while they take the money, the blood, and the innocence of Narnian citizens. You claim the Dark guilds are a problem, do you? Who do you think FUNDS those guilds? The Aslanic church will tear this country apart from the inside out. I have seen innocents killed in the name of their Church and I—I and Narnians all—will NOT tolerate these atrocities anymore_.

MAKAROV

Makarov looked up from the pamphlet with a frown. He was old enough to remember the twisted history of the churches, from the violent civil war to the ecstatic Aslanic parades upon the election of the new Paslan. He knew from first-hand experience that many, if not all, of Hull's claims were true. The aged guild master had long suspected that many of the Dark Guilds were funded by the Aslanic church. But to say it so blatantly…the master frowned again. This Hull figure was risking his very life to publish these words. Not a day passed but Makarov heard bitter outrage and thinly-veiled threats emanating from the Aslanic officials, directed entirely towards Hull.

The left-wing writer had re-appeared in a flurry, flooding the capital city (and other places, more slowly) with his sincere, dramatic prose. His writing was making the citizens nervous and throwing the Paslan government into a frenzy. No one was sure who to believe, but more and more people, officials, and even guilds were siding with the so-called "Hull party." Even Fairy Tail itself was slowly getting involved.

"Master?" came Erza's voice. Makarov looked up and wearily waved her in, not bothering to conceal his anxiety.

"Are you thinking about Hull?" she asked, gesturing towards the pamphlet. He nodded.

"What does everyone think?"

Erza pursed her lips thoughtfully, tapping her hand against her sword hilt absently.

"Most are inclined to sympathize with Hull, but his lack of definitive proof this time around is holding the more rational ones back for now," she said finally. "Natsu is all fired up, of course. I think Lucy's disparaging opinion of Hull is the only thing keeping him back from starting a crusade." Makarov let himself smile. Natsu was ever on the side of justice, that much was certain.

"I think," came a hesitant voice, "that Hull is deliberately provoking the public, so he has their full attention when he does begin giving proof. His writing has evolved considerably since the war." Erza and Makarov turned to see Levy at the door.

"Sorry," she squeaked. "I couldn't help but overhear as I came in. I've been analyzing the Hull articles."

"Of course," said Makarov. "I should've summoned you right away. You are a member of the Magic Council, after all."

"Sort of," Levy sighed, wrinkling her nose.

"Do you think we should take action?" asked Makarov of the two women seriously. Levy exchanged glances with Erza.

"My gut is telling me yes," said Erza slowly, "but I think I've fallen under Hull's spell as well."

"I would advise caution," added Levy. "I want to help, but Hull needs to provide proof and give definite direction."

"Do you really think he wants to direct a revolution himself?" asked Makarov. Levy considered a moment, then shook her head.

"I guess not. But who else will lead the revolution he suggests?" Makarov shook his head.

"I don't know," he sighed heavily. "Either way, I fear for his life. The poor man has both Aslanic and Tashlanian churches threatening his life, not to mention the bounties that have sprung up among the dark guilds." He walked to the window, staring out at the bleak sky.

"Stay safe," he whispered.

JUNG

Jung coughed into his elbow surreptitiously. He had shut the door to the upper room where he worked and had opened the window to let the cold night air in. If the sleeping Gray heard him cough, he would immediately come and shut the window and attempt to send Jung to bed. Jung scowled, setting down his pen for a moment. Gray had been hovering lately, trying to make him eat more, work less, and wear ridiculous amounts of clothing. _Like he can talk_ , Jung thought irritably, coughing into his elbow again.

He was reasonably sure that he had caught a chest cold, but he needed the cold air tonight. He was trying to sort out a way to retrieve the pile of evidence he had slowly collected over the past four years. Jung let his head flop to the table in frustration. How was he supposed to access a multi-information lacryma? During the war, he had played a dangerous game; he had, with the help of the _True Narnian_ team, collected evidence and used the giants' one remaining government MI lacryma (stolen) to upload it onto an obscure, firewalled corner of the Darknet cloud.

Jung abruptly slammed the lid on the memories of the team, standing suddenly to accompany the mental action with a physical one. He could not revisit that horror now. He need to find a way to access a secure government lacryma…but how? In order to access one in Magnolia, he would have to infiltrate a government building. Not only that, but in order to access the evidence, he would need government access codes. He had been the _writer_ , not the intelligence, and certainly not the hacker. Those responsibilities had lay with—

Jung strode to the window and stuck his head out, coughing as he got a full breath of the cold air. He could not revisit that. Not tonight. He had problems to solve and a government to challenge. He returned to his work reluctantly, letting the intricacies absorb him.

GRAY

Gray woke with a start as Jung's shriek shattered the silence. He bolted up the stairs, cursing Jung's stubbornness. The kid refused to let Gray sleep in the upstairs garret where he worked. _I'm distracted enough by your presence as it is_ , he had reluctantly admitted about a week after they moved in. If Gray hadn't been so worried about him, he would be flattered. But damn it, Jung's defiance would be the death of him. Gray swore silently as he silently opened the door and evaluated the scene.

Jung had curled up in the middle of the floor (ignoring the perfectly usable couch across the room), papers scattered about him, his head resting on a detailed map of Magnolia. The kid curled up tighter on himself, fear contorting his features.

"No, no," he half-shrieked. "Leave them alone! I'm the one you want!" Gray stepped forward and shook him grimly. He was going to wake up the entire neighborhood, especially since the damn window was open—again. When he got no immediate response, he took a moment to slam the window shut before he returned to Jung's side.

"Jung!" he snapped finally. Jung's brown eyes snapped open and he sat upright with a panicked gasp, breaking into a coughing fit as he backed away from the figure leaning over him.

"Jung, it's me," soothed Gray, holding out one hand as he crouched. "It's Gray." Jung eyed with suspicion for a moment before some measure of recognition flooded his terrified face and he skittered across the room into Gray's arms.

Gray stiffened in surprise, automatically putting his arms around the thin body. He sighed as Jung's hoarse gasps came fast and against his bare chest. The kid's nightmares had been getting worse during the past week, but he had never touched Gray of his own accord until now. What had he witnessed that made him so scared?

"H-hyung," whispered Jung. Gray tightened his grip as warm tears fell onto his skin. How had Jung managed by himself? He was so frighteningly fragile, emotionally and physically. Jung's red-hot charisma and fiery defiance only seemed as though they would consume the body and mind of their host, burn them from the inside out.

"I'm right here. Hyung's here," he murmured, accustomed to Jung's plaintive address by now. "Just breathe. It's OK." Jung's sobs morphed into another coughing fit and Gray gently pushed aside the messy hair and laid one hand on the kid's forehead. Another low-grade fever. He frowned and formed an icy stethoscope, taking the opportunity to listen to the kid's lungs in his distressed state. Jung wouldn't let him near when he wasn't near-hysterical, so Gray had been forced to improvise.

A weak rasp met his ears when he slid the stethoscope under Jung's shirt. The kid shivered at the icy touch, awareness returning to his eyes. Quickly, Gray waved away his stethoscope, letting it shatter against the wall as he stood, giving Jung his space. The kid had developed a chest cold, that much was certain. Gray had been researching frantically, and he had learned more about listening to lungs in the past two weeks than he had ever imagined.

Jung flushed, his embarrassment painfully tangible as he stood stiffly. He didn't apologize this time, struggling to control his expression as he turned his back on Gray. Gray opened his mouth to comfort him, but he never had a chance to utter the words.

The window shattered as a figure jumped through, slipping through Gray's barrier easily, raising a silenced pistol towards Jung and flashing his light in Gray's eyes. _Damn it_. Gray blindly leaped forward, knocking the figure over as the bullet buried itself in the wall. A pitched, but brief battle ensued. Despite the attacker's impressive command of speed magic, his skills were far less impressive than Natsu's.

Within three minutes, the attacker lay unconscious on the floor and Gray was left to retrieve Jung from the adjoining room.

"Are you hurt?" he asked anxiously, noting the rivulet of blood running down Jung's arm. He shook his head, but his eyes were wary.

"How did they find me?" he asked, half to himself.

"It wasn't me, alright?" said Gray curtly. "They must be tracking you somehow." Then he stopped short as an idea occurred to him; multiple ideas, actually.

"Jung, what if it's the _shibbolarach_?" Jung turned startled eyes to him.

"That's one reason that it could be hurting you so much," explained Gray hastily. "The magic user who implanted the array may have inserted a tracking mechanism. Jung's face was pale.

"That would explain a lot," he whispered. Then he looked up at Gray, his eyes scared. "Then what am I supposed to do?" he asked, trying and failing to keep his voice distant. "We need to leave this place!"

"I know," said Gray, cutting off Jung's panic. "We need to go to Fairy Tail."

MIRAJANE

Mirajane was cleaning up the aftermath of yet another brawl when Gray swept in with a gust of frigid air and snow. She hurried forward as Gray deposited a thin boy on the floor, crouching by him protectively as he used one hand to slam the door shut.

"Gray!" she gasped.

"Where is the master?" Gray asked brusquely, still crouching in front of the shaking body.

"Gone," she answered, seeing he was in no state to explain his long absence. "He had to attend a Council meeting. He'll be back tomorrow morning." Was this the friend that he had told Erza about? Mirajane's eyes softened as the boy began coughing harshly.

"Come on," she said briskly, turning towards the bar. "I'll get you something to drink." Gray finally relaxed and stood, encouraging his friend to do so with a gentle nudge.

"I suppose it's safe for a moment," he breathed. Mirajane mixed cough medicine and honey into warm milk and poured a beer for Gray. The pair sat by the bar, but the strange kid wouldn't relax, his brown eyes darting around the guild in search of potential threats.

"You're safe here," she heard Gray murmur softly and Mirajane barely caught the release of tension in the pale face.

"I'm very sorry for intruding," said the brown-eyed boy, bowing his head and extending one hand across the counter. "My name is Jung." Mirajane took the proffered hand, her heart jumping in alarm and sympathy when she felt the sharp angles of his thin hand.

"I'm Mirajane," she offered, pushing the mug of milk towards him with a smile. "And you are safe here."

"Actually, he's not," said Gray, taking a gulp of his beer. "We need to get Porlyusica here ASAP."

"Porlyusica?" asked Mirajane sharply. "Why?" Gray shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. Do you know where she is?" he pressed impatiently.

"You're in luck," answered Mirajane with a tight smile, hopping over the bar lightly. "She's here. She had to talk to the master about something."

"What do you want?" asked Porlyusica's sharp voice, ringing down from the second floor. Gray shepherded Jung off the bar stool and towards the stairs.

"We need to extract a tracking mechanism from a _shibbolarach_ ," he informed her. Mirajane put one hand over her mouth. _That poor child. Without magic—_ Porlyusica scowled, eyeing Jung suspiciously.

"Hull," she stated. Jung jumped and Mirajane started. Hull? This boy? "Oh yes," said Porlyusica, beckoning the shocked pair towards them as she turned, "I already know all about you. I'm enough of a psychiatrist to figure that out. Mirajane, I'll need your help. Bring some boiled water and towels." Mirajane stared at the retreating figures for a moment before jumping into action, her thoughts chasing and tumbling over each other.

 _Shibbolarach._ She shuddered as she collected the supplies. The array was notorious for its painful side effects. She had never even considered the possibility of non-magic user using such powerful magic. She was in the upstairs rooms within minutes. Porlyusica already had Jung sitting down on the bed, luggage thrown in one corner of the room. He had taken off his shirt and Mirajane frowned at the sight of his clearly-visible ribs. Jung coughed weakly, shivering, and Porlyusica glared at him.

"Gray, hold his hand firmly," she ordered. "Mirajane, bring those water and towels." Mirajane set a bowl of steaming water at the table by Porlyusica's side, setting aside the remainder to stay warm over the fire. The grim medic dropped some herbs into the water, letting the water fizz for a moment before she dipped a clean towel in and swabbed the boy's hand and wrist.

"Firmly, Gray, or I'll do it myself," she snapped. Mirajane cast a sympathetic look towards Gray. He looked almost as shaken as Jung, but he tightened his grip, using his right arm to pull Jung into him. Mirajane looked away as Porlyusica pulled out a shining scalpel.

JUNG

"Jung, it's OK," murmured Gray, tightening his grip. Jung tried to subdue the tremors that ran through his body as the forbidding woman pulled out a scalpel.

"What are you going to do?" Gray asked. Jung suspected it was for his sake, which was fortunate; his own voice seemed to have vanished. _So much for control_ , he thought miserably. _I can't do anything anymore_.

"I'm going to re-open the wound," explained the purple-haired…doctor, clearly exasperated. "Then I am going to have to draw the array out and remove the tracking mechanism. I take it you want the silly array back in your palm?" she asked curtly. Jung assented with a jerk of his chin, trying desperately to smooth his face into an expression that didn't contain fear.

"I suggest you focus more on breathing, with your psychology," admonished the woman sternly. "Gray, I trust you'll help in that department." Jung felt Gray's arm left hand tighten around his wrist in response and his arm pull Jung closer to his shirt. Despite this, Jung couldn't completely bury his fear as Porlyusica held his hand with surprisingly gentle fingers and re-opened the healing cut.

"Don't look," said Gray suddenly, pulling Jung's head into his chest. Jung would have protested, but sharp pain ran up his arm, effectively gagging him. He fisted Gray's pants with his right hand, unable to stop the cry that escaped his lips.

GRAY

"Don't look," said Gray, pulling Jung into his chest. He had focused on keeping his shirt on. Jung would need every bit of warmth he could get, and he would only panic if Mirajane came near. Gray set his jaw as Porlyusica re-opened the wound quickly and Jung cried out, his pain muffled by Gray's clothing.

Gray forced himself to focus on holding Jung's arm steady and keeping his own body temperature warm for the kid's sake. Jung's blood dripped into the metal pan below with an irritating tinny sound. Porlyusica suddenly jerked out the array with a pair of tweezers, and Jung yelped in pain, half-sobbing.

"Sssh," he soothed, keeping his eyes on Jung's bleeding hand. "It's OK." As Jung quieted somewhat, Gray stared at the array, macabrely fascinated. Arrays normally didn't have a _physical_ form, per say. Was that just something Porlyusica was able to do, or was it unique to the _shibbolarach_ array? He decided on the former, seeing as how the array remained free of blood.

Porlyusica frowned at the hovering array, poking and prodding at with the tweezers. Jung gasped harshly, his heart thrumming frantically against Gray.

"Hyung is here," he said softly. "I'm right here. It's OK." Gray felt a tiny rush of satisfaction as he noted Jung's heartbeat decrease slightly. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Porlyusica yanked something out of the array and into the fire. The flames crackled and spat angrily in response and Jung jumped at the sudden sound.

"Just the fire," said Gray quickly, trying to keep Jung's thin wrist on an even level over the table. Jung said nothing, merely gripping the fabric of Gray's pants tighter in response. Porlyusica remained silent as well, motioning Mirajane forward.

"Keep the wound clean as I implant the array again," she said shortly. Mirajane complied with intent focus. Gray had intended to watch the implantation process but as soon as the array touched his skin, Jung cried out in anguish and the ice mage was forced to concentrate on holding the thin, writhing body to himself.

"Jung, breathe," he commanded gently. He could feel his own emotions recoiling from Jung's pain. Why was this so difficult for him? He had seen men beheaded and disemboweled and too many other nasty, brutish deaths. Why was it so hard to watch the blood spill from one gash on this kid's palm? Gray felt Jung quiver as he cut off his own cries with a choked sob.

"It's OK, Jung. I'm right here. Focus on my voice. Just breathe," he continued, lowering his head so he could keep his voice soft. How many times had he done this on the battlefield? He didn't want to know the number.

"There," snapped Porlyusica. Gray looked up hopefully, but the wound was still gushing blood, steaming slightly and glowing faintly green. Mirajane wiped away the blood as Porlyusica stitched up the wound quickly.

"Hyung," choked Jung.

"I'm right here, Jung," said Gray, fighting to keep his voice calm. "I'm right here. It's almost over." As soon as Porlyusica had thoroughly disinfected Jung's hand and wrist, she nodded to Gray.

"Bandage it up and give him a sleeping draft," she ordered. "And don't bother me again."

"Do you need help?" asked Mirajane softly over Jung's sobs as Porlyusica cleaned up her supplies and left with alarming speed.

"Can you get the sleeping draft?" asked Gray quietly. "After that, would you be able to make sure no one bothers us? Just tell the master when he comes back. I'm afraid Jung will panic." Mirajane nodded and slipped out.

"Hyung," sobbed Jung. All semblance of control was gone as the kid shook violently, overcome by the night's events.

"Ssssh," soothed Gray, folding Jung into his arms as he wrapped the bandage around Jung's palm. "You're safe now. They won't find us. Come on, let's get a shirt on you." Gray helped a terrified Jung into one of his own large shirts. Jung let go of him only long enough to put his arms and head through before he clung to Gray again. Gray smiled faintly as he rolled up the sleeves. Mirajane entered softly, handing the sleeping draft to Gray, giving him an encouraging smile before she left quietly.

"Hyung, it h-hurts," admitted Jung, trying to stem his own emotion to no avail.

"I know, Jung. This will help you sleep," he said. Jung looked up at the sleeping draft, too far gone to display his normal wariness. He lifted one shaking hand, which Gray supported with his own. He took one sip and broke into a coughing fit. Gray took the glass from him quickly, rubbing his back as he coughed into one shoulder. "Just a bit more," he encouraged. Jung drank the rest with Gray's support, stopping at intervals to cough.

When it was gone, Gray took the glass from the thin, shaking fingers. Jung's grip loosened as the strong draft quickly spread through his small body and Gray laid him back gently. He was about to stand, when Jung grasped his shirt with small fingers.

"Hyung," he muttered sleepily, trying to keep his large brown eyes open. "Hyung." Gray smiled and laid down beside Jung. The kid's small body tucked against his and Gray focused on setting his body temperature higher as he pulled blankets over both of them. He fell into warm, satisfied sleep, arms curled possessively around Jung. They were safe. They were in Fairy Tail.


	10. Chapter 9

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima.

JUNG

 _They were burning. Jung could hear the shrieks behind him as Melian got caught by the encroaching flames. He turned, but the hacker—Orion—stopped him. 'No!' the withering water nymph shouted hoarsely. 'You have to escape, Jung! You are the one that can help them!' Jung screamed in protest, but Orion was already dragging him outside, and Jung's head was throbbing and the smoke seared his throat and—how? How had they found the True Narnian headquarters? Orion had pushed him out of the way, only to vanish in an achingly long moment of steam, his liquid smile twitching for a moment before he vanished. And then Jung was screaming, on his knees besides a burning building, wondering how, how, HOW HAD THEY FOUND HIM?_

GRAY

When Gray awoke, it was to Jung's screams. The kid sat bolt upright with a shriek that split the still hours of the morning in two. Jung pushed himself away from Gray, tumbling off the bed and landing on the wooden floor with a thud.

"Are you OK?" asked Gray, but Jung paid him no heed. The kid was on his knees in the corner, retching violently.

"Gray?" asked Mirajane's voice.

"What is the meaning of this noise?" came Makarov's booming voice. "Gray, who is this?" But Gray ignored them all and slid to stop beside Jung.

"What's wrong?" he crooned, rubbing Jung's back. "It's OK."

"It's not!" shrieked Jung, pushing Gray away suddenly. Gray jumped back, startled. "It's not OK! They are dead! They are all dead and it's all my fault! The _shibbolorach_ led them there, and they all died and burned…" Jung retched again and Gray looked up at the Master, sick at heart. So that's what had happened. The _shibbolorach_ had been a tracking device since the beginning and Jung hadn't been the only one trapped in the _True Narnian_ headquarters that night.

"It's all my fault, it's all my fault. _Gods_ , I can't do this," muttered Jung, putting his hands over his ears pitifully.

"Makarov, get out. You too, Mirajane," came Porlyusica's harsh voice. The purple-haired mage nodded soberly at Gray. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, but she had already turned away, shepherding the bewildered Mirajane and Makarov out the door.

"Jung," he breathed, turning back to the distraught kid. "Come on, Jung. Look at me."

"Can't. Can't trust anyone, can't know anyone. Everyone I know dies and is burned to death and it's because of me," said Jung unsteadily, putting his head between his knees. "And I can't trust you. I've fucked everything up. Damn it all. I can't… _I should have been the one that died!_ " he hissed, looking up at Gray furiously.

JUNG

Gray was looking at him with that horrid pity in his eyes, so much that Jung was practically drowning in it. He didn't want Gray's pity. He just wanted to be left alone so that no one else had to die on his behalf. That's all he wanted. He couldn't trust anyone and no one could trust him because every single one of the _True Narnian_ team had died, everyone except him. Orion had died saving him, and they had all died because the government had followed the tracking device in his _shibbolorach_ and it was all because of him so he couldn't trusthimdamnit…Jung stood, swaying and stumbled towards the door. He needed to get out. He needed to run again and again until no one died anymore.

"Jung," came Gray's voice, and a body ( _it was cold he had always liked the cold_ ) was supporting him, holding him back from the door ( _and the sour stench of sickness filled the room but it didn't smell like the smoke which still festered in his lungs_ ) and suddenly he couldn't stand anymore ( _Gray, can you hold me? Can you leave? I don't want to kill you_ ).

"You won't kill me," came a voice that was like Gray's ( _had he said that out loud? But Gray would definitely die and burn and it would be his fault again)_ and Jung wanted to believe the voice, but it was very difficult to breathe.

"Jung, look at me," commanded the voice sternly and the arms were cradling him, wrapping him in a cold, cold embrace on the floor and Jung wanted so badly to curl up and cling to that cold ( _his mother was scolding him again and smell of fish and grease and salt filled the air while the gulls shrieked_ ).

"Breathe," whispered the voice, close, so very close, to his ears and Jung tried very hard to listen because he had forgotten why he stopped breathing ( _and he did not remember a father there was only his mom and the sea the sea which ate his mom after another brother died and the debtors came knocking at the door and the sea had left him alone and carried him away and the smell of tar filled his nostrils and the gulls cried_ ).

And Jung stopped breathing altogether.

GRAY

Jung wasn't breathing. Ye gods, he wasn't breathing. He had his hands over his ears and his eyes were shut tight and he stopped breathing. Gray tightened his arms around the thin figure.

"Damn it, Jung!" he cried, laying the kid back down gently to the floor. Then, in a moment of pure, utter desperation, he bent down and kissed him. He lent his own oxygen to Jung, the air tinged with the cold ice of his own fear. Jung coughed, suddenly gasping, flailing blindly. Gray caught the thin limbs and held them down gently. "Jung," he said, his voice colder than he would've liked, frozen by the unnatural panic that made his own voice tremble. "Jung, come on. Look at me. Open your eyes." Jung opened his eyes and they latched onto Gray. Gray let go of Jung's arms and the kid reached one shaking hand upward, still gasping. Gray grasped the proffered hand firmly. "There you go kid," he encouraged softly, pulling the thin body upward. "There you go." Jung's thin body curled in Gray's arms and they stayed that way for a long time.

MAKAROV

"Would someone care to tell me what's happening?" asked Makarov sternly, leading Porlyusica and Mirajane into his office.

"That boy is Hull," stated Porlyusica flatly. Makarov gaped at her.

"That kid?" he questioned skeptically. "The one puking in the corner? That skinny little kid is Hull?"

"Of course he is," snapped Porlyusica. "Now shut up, because I am only going to tell you this once." Makarov quailed and a faint grin graced Mirajane's features for a moment. Even the master was intimidated by the elderly mage.

"Hull, despite his brilliant writing, is a remarkably unstable person. Fairy Tail is a horrible environment for him, and I highly suggest you kick him out. He is a dangerous person, and his presence will endanger everyone here. I'd suggest Gray leave him too, but apparently that's an unpopular opinion," she sniffed. "Stupid humans." Makarov opened his mouth, but Porlyusica glared at him. "Don't ask questions. I hate questions," she finished, and swept out of the room.

"What…" trailed off Makarov helplessly. "How can I kick that poor boy out?" he finally asked, turning to Mirajane. "His life is in danger and…well, look at him! I can't kick him out, no matter what his political views are!"

"I think," hesitated Mirajane and Makarov looked at her expectantly. "I think Porlyusica may be right."

"What? Why?"

"It's not that I think he's dangerous," responded Mirajane defensively. "But how do you think he would react to us? He's only now fallen silent, even with just Gray there." Makarov listened intently. Mirajane was right. He could hear neither the boy nor Gray. Silence had fallen over the guild once again. "Besides that," continued Mirajane, "staying here just risks his identity being compromised further. Not by any of us," she hastened to add, seeing Makarov's expression, "but by the sheer number of people who would know him."

"What do you mean, 'compromised further'?" asked Makarov.

"He has a _shibbolorach_ in his palm," answered Mirajane, "and Porlyusica pulled a tracking device from it tonight." Makarov sucked in his breath, blowing it out into his mustache. He had seen grown mages quite undone from the effects of that wretched array.

"Does he have magic?" he asked sharply.

"No." Makarov blew into his mustache again, striding up and down the room abruptly. Mirajane left quietly, recognizing his mood, leaving Makarov to his thoughts. What could have possibly happened to this kid? Where could he send Gray and the kid—Hull—so they would be safe?


	11. Chapter 10

All rights belong to Hiro Mashima and C.S. Lewis. I own nothing. :)

GRAY

 _As it turns out, Makarov didn't have to worry about where to stow us,_ thought Gray grimly. Jung had vanished. They had fallen asleep together, and when he woke up, Jung was gone. Gray bit his lip, forcing himself to focus on the building in front of him. Once he had discovered Jung's absence, he followed the skinny kid, only stopping to tell the old man where he was going. Now, he found himself slipping through the window of yet another rundown apartment building.

Based on Jung's previous actions, he guessed that the kid was hiding in a low-key part of town, populated by people who looked the other way at least twice a day…in other words, the poorer, shadier parts of Magnolia, the inevitable aftermath of sudden prosperity and a huge income gap. _Damn it, kid_. He had a pretty good idea of _why_ the kid had ran off, but it didn't make it any better. The kid was sensitive as it was to any kind of danger, especially to those around him. Now, this news about the _shibbolarach_ …Jung shook his head and stopped in front of another building for just a moment before jumping away lightly.

"The bean kid's sure good at hiding," grumbled a deep voice beside him. Gray turned to face the red-eyed dragon slayer with a scowl.

"Shut up and concentrate," he snapped and slid to a stop in front of the third-to-last building on the street. "I need to find him."

GAJEEL

 _Oh,_ _ **you**_ _need to find him, do you?,_ thought Gajeel sardonically. He was beginning to wonder why he'd agreed to work with a frantic, stern Gray in the first place. How did the stripper manage to be frantic and stern at the same time anyway? He sniffed the rancid air of the latest building, simultaneously listening carefully for any of the sounds he associated with the kid: the nearly inaudible noise of pen flowing over paper and the harsh, fast breathing of a person with a weak respiratory system. He wrinkled his nose. It was hard to pick up the individual scents of the people behind the doors, when so many odors filled the air.

He ruled out any apartments with the strong scent of food (Gray had told him, but he'd gathered as much already), focusing on silent, unobtrusive apartments. His head snapped up.

"Can't tell if it's bean kid's scent, but I hear coughing," he offered, taking off to the end of the hallway. Gray followed silently, waiting impatiently as Gajeel leaned closer to the apartment door. Then he sighed and shook his head, his tangled black hair following his movement belatedly.

"Too old," he muttered, and slammed the door open to the stairs. Gray ignored his peevish display of temper and merely followed him as closely as he could without actually running into him. Gajeel glared. He had a right to be irritated. Apparently, the little tracking device incident _might have alerted dangerous killers to his position_. Gee, thanks Makarov. He snorted and whipped into the next alley, pulling Gray to a stop beside him.

"Hey, stripper," he snapped. "This is literally the worst part of town coming up. It's where liars and dark guilds like to play Ruskin Roulette together, and drink lamb's blood at the after party. Are you sure he'd be here? You'd have to be _very_ dumb to hide out here, even if killers are _alerted to your position_." Gray ignored his pointed emphasis and shook Gajeel's arm off, springing forward into the first apartment building. Gajeel followed, trying to pick out scents. Nothing.

They went all the way through, finding themselves at the border of Magnolia. Jung was nowhere to be found.

HULL

 _The rumors speak of a great devil, and I am the master of rumors._

JUNG

Well, of course he had escaped _(run like the yellow-bellied coward he was he ran into the sea too, after the sea ate his mother)_ safely. He was intelligent after all _(but only intelligent to murder people by fire and leave the one he had almost…_ ). No. He had escaped hostile territory. He had escaped. He was fine. He had escaped…

"What are you doing here? This is a restricted area. Where's your ID?"

He had escaped. _And the voice was yelling, just like the debtors at the door, like his mother shrieking shrilly, placing one two brother's deaths on his bony shoulders)_.

"I'm going to have to place you under confinement indefinitely. You…don't have the right to remain silent. Not here. You'd better start talking, you creepy little shit."

 _I want Gray, but I killed him with fire, and the tang of the sea swirls long and deep in my weak, weak lungs. I want the cold. I want the cold._

"Talk, damn you! Do you not know the meaning? Do you not speak Common? Are you a freakin' idiot?"

 _Gray. It hurts a great deal, but not as much as fire, and not as much as the cold that comes down and breathes into me and then asks me to trust._

"He won't talk. We beat 'im good, too. No idea who he is."

 _Gray. Please do don't come get me. I just wanted to go back to the sea that ate a mother and one two brothers. I want cold._

"Whatever. We've got enough shit to deal with right now. Let him starve for a few days."

 _Gray. Gray, please. No, don't come. You will die by fire. I want the cold. Gray. Gray. Gray._


	12. Chapter 11

All rights belong to Hiro Mashima and C.S. Lewis. I own nothing.

GAJEEL

"Hey, Redfox," came a conspiratorial voice. Gajeel rolled his eyes and turned towards the speaker; it was a fox, wearing the uniform of the Magnolia Police. Another one? He had to deal with them on a regular basis as part of the Magic Council's Custody Enforcement Unit, but he hated them all anyway. Most of them were corrupt, and the rest were cowards. No wonder that bean kid was so vehement.

"What do you want?" he asked, turning towards the fox impatiently. He was just leaving the trial room and he had absolutely no desire to be here anymore.

"Think you can help a fellow out?" the fox asked, lowering his voice further. Gajeel narrowed his red eyes, suspicious. Whatever this greasy little guy wanted, it probably wasn't good. The next words confirmed his fears.

"We've got a little sneak we caught trying to access a MI lacryma, and that's hands off for everyone, ya know? He won't talk, but if you went down there…" Gajeel only narrowed his eyes and glared, his mind jumping three steps ahead while he successfully intimidated the fox with the tense silence. He and Gray had begun to fear the worst. The bean kid was nowhere to be found and Hull had been silent. Was this where he had gone? And what had they done? Gajeel's scowl deepened at the thought of Jung's possible mistreatment and the fox gulped.

"Well, if you're busy, then never mind…" he trailed off as Gajeel began to smile, his mouth turning up wickedly.

"Making people talk is my specialty," drawled Gajeel, taking a step forward. The fox only swallowed hard and scurried away in front of Gajeel. They took the elevator down to the basement in silence, only to use a set of stairs to go one level lower. Gajeel purposefully set his expression and kept his posture relaxed. The only reason the fox was asking was his infamous reputation as an S-class mage from a dark guild. If they knew his real feelings…well, it wouldn't end well for anybody, would it now?

JUNG

 _Cold. Cold. He wanted cold, but it was hot here, the residual heat of heat lacrymas seeping into the walls and filling the air. He wanted cold. He wanted Gray._ Jung opened his eyes as a fist lashed against him. His eyes blurred, then cleared, revealing…Gajeel? He shook his head wearily and closed his eyes again. _The flames ate them all, just like the sea ate one two brothers and a mother, and Jung had killed them all, successfully and silently and Gray would die too._

"Okay, bean kid. You need to wake up. We're gonna be fine, but Gray's gonna kill me if I hand you over in this state." Gray was going to die and his death was inevitable, so Jung elected to ignore that statement. They were moving and he was slung over one shoulder, bouncing against a body that far, far too hot. Then the body stopped, and Jung opened his eyes blearily and shut them again. He could feel the stale, stifling air of an enclosed space, and he gasped feebly, trying to find the oxygen among the heat.

"Sssh. I have to find a way to get Gray here…" Gray was going to die. Didn't anyone realize that? Jung sat up and realized he had been slumped against a wall. Gray was going to die and be eaten, too. He shook his head and put his hands over his ears. No, Gray was gone. He had escaped, and Gray was gone, but he was safe now. Gray was safe and he wouldn't get eaten. _I want cold_.

"Levy!" A hissed whisper, and then another person's voice, whispered and feminine and tense.

"Gajeel! What are you doing here?"

"Never mind that, I need you to get Gray here, disguised. You and I can't leave here without causing a scene, and we need to get him out of here." A gasp. Jung tried to open his eyes, but it was almost as hard as the day that the sea ate his mother. _Gray. Gray. I don't need Gray. I escaped. I am Hull. No, I am not Hull. I am not Hull, and I know nothing, and I was doing nothing, so stop hitting me. I didn't kill them, omma. I didn't kill them. The sea ate them, and I was doing nothing, so stop hitting me. I was almost glad when the sea ate you, too._

"Jung?" A name, whispered against his face with the icy, gentle breath of winter. Jung tried very hard, but his eyes remained shut.

"Gray…" he mumbled.

"Jung, I need you to be very quiet for a little bit. Can you do that?" Jung tried to nod. And Gray must have seen it, because he was lifted against the cold, hard body.

"I need a distraction. Can you two cause it?"

"You're seriously asking that, stripper? And what took you so long?"

"Shut up and go." Jung clung tight and the cold allowed him to breathe, but he still couldn't lock away his mother behind the doors of his mind. _So she kept hitting him. Sharp, unexpected violence when he got too close and he never knew when it would happen and it was the same, even though he wasn't Hull and he didn't know anything._

"Jung, come on." A blanket was put over him and Jung kicked it away in protest and when a hand was laid too hard on his shoulder, he lashed out. _Silently, though. She had hated it when he made too much noise. Because they had been noisy. Tall and strong and noisy. It was only when the money had vanished from everywhere that they had been forced to fish too far out in the northern storms and the sea had eaten them_. Jung shook his head. Why couldn't he lock them away either? A cold hand came on his face, gently, and Jung clung to it like he was dying. Cold. The cold northern wind carried the ship away from the sea that ate his mother and one two brothers. Cold. The cold wind whistled in the abandoned land of the giants and around _The True Narnian_. The cold etched itself in his lungs, cooling a raging fever as he stumbled into warmth and light. Cold welcomed him and saved him. Cold. Gray was cold. Jung opened his eyes.

"Jung?" asked Gray. Jung gripped Gray's wrists tighter, forcing them down from his face. Just because he couldn't shake Gray ( _thank all ye gods_ ) didn't mean that he was completely helpless. He forced himself to push Gray's hands away, looking around. They were in what looked like a large apartment loft. Snow fell thick outside the large windows. He was lying back against a black leather couch. He straightened, wincing as his muscles protested.

"Take it easy," murmured Gray, moving one hand forward. Jung swatted it away.

"Don't come near me," he commanded, but his voice rasped and then broke, falling into silence. He shook his head, trying to think. Gray needed the whole story if they were to defeat the enemy, did he not? He couldn't shake Gray; so be it. It was time he set his pride (mostly) aside for the sake of Magnolia. Hull was the only one who needed to remain; Jung and his pathetic weakness needed to keep his mouth shut.

GRAY

If Jung had looked ill the night that he had vanished, he looked like death warmed over now. Gray waited breathlessly, cautiously as the kid tried to orient himself to the unfamiliar surroundings. Warren had sent him a breathless message, flashing images of Levy and Gajeel at him. When he arrived at the courtroom, he had had to sneak in and around the policemen and guild members swarming everywhere. It took an agonizingly long amount of time before he had reached the tiny access room that Gajeel and Levy were crammed into. Jung had been slumped against the wall.

Jung sat up suddenly, visibly cringing. No wonder. There were bruises and a few wounds that looked like claw marks marring his face and visible through his torn skin.

"Take it easy," Gray said sympathetically, but Jung hit his hand away.

"Don't come near me," the kid rasped, the fear present in every syllable. Gray examined his face anxiously. He had remained conscious the entire way back to the apartment (Gray had rented it yesterday as a precaution). Gajeel had remarked that although the kid had taken a beating, there were no broken bones. The only worrying thing was the dry cough that bubbled up in the kid's lungs every couple of minutes. But Jung hadn't opened his eyes, and this was the first time he had spoken.

"I'll tell you everything on one condition," snapped the kid. Gray resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at the decidedly non-demanding demand. Jung was physically about as intimidating as a bunny rabbit, but his brown eyes were hard and his chapped lips set. This wasn't Jung—this was Hull.

"And what would that be?" Gray asked cautiously.

"Since you seem determined to stay with me, you need to help Hull rally the remaining populace and defeat the enemy that is approaching this town," said Hull. "Do you agree to these terms?" Gray nodded and held out a hand silently. Hull ignored it pointedly and kept speaking.

"In order to assist me to your fullest capability, it would beneficial for you to know the whole story. My name is Jung Lee. I was born in 14 A.D. in a small fishing village north of the Seven Isles. During that same year, the economy collapsed. The village, already poor, quickly became impoverished. Our household consisted of my mother, my two brothers, and myself. I do not know who my father was."

"My brothers supported the household by deep-sea fishing, the standard occupation of the area. With the onset of the depression came, simultaneously, a disease that slowly killed off many of the off-shore marine life. My brothers were forced to travel further and further out in order to find enough fish to sell. Despite the fact that most of the economy recovered by 23 A.D., the village remained poor and the off-shore marine life remained scarce. Both of my brothers died in a storm at sea in 27 A.D."

Jung stopped for a moment with a quick intake of breath and folded trembling hands, and Gray looked away, conscious of his own dark gaze. This was only the beginning of the story?

"After my brothers died," resumed Jung, his voice shaky, "my mother…changed. She hated me—for living, I guess. She grew erratic and paranoid, and lashed out at me if I made too much noise, or just on a particularly bad days." Gray barely caught the cringe that accompanied these words, and he drew back in consternation, quickly reading the truth behind Jung's euphemistic words. Jung had been abused? That certainly explained a lot. Jung caught his movement and glared, continuing his story, his voice cold.

"My mother drowned herself in the sea in 28 A.D. I promptly stowed away on a trawler making its way to the northern borders of Ettinsmoor. There, I began writing editorials that claimed the disease that had devastated the northern seas was deliberately engineered. I caught the attention of _The True Narnian_." Jung's breath hitched, but he kept going.

"I believe I was 15 when I began working for them. We collected evidence for the government crimes from an old government MI lacryma." Gray raised an eyebrow. Catching his incredulous look, Jung put on what would've been called a smirk, had it not been so desperately sad. "We stole it from one of the old giant's castles. It was an ancient, slow device, but it suited our needs. Our hacker—" Jung coughed. "Our hacker was able to get the proof we needed to raise a firestorm when the war started."

"After that…well, you've guessed the rest, I presume. In late 32, the government—probably the Aslanic faction—burned _The True Narnian_ headquarters to the ground, having been led there by the _shibbolorach_ in my palm. I don't particularly remember how I got to Magnolia; I was already running a fever at the time. That's when you found me."

They sat for a moment in silence, broken only by Jung's coughs. The snow had ceased to fall outside the window, leaving only the steel sky of a winter afternoon. Gray pondered this new information for a moment, but soon wrinkled his brow.

"What about now?" he asked. "Why haven't you published any proof?"

"I need access to an MI lacryma," said Jung. "The old one was burned with _The True Narnian_ , and current ones are heavily guarded. That's what I was trying to do when I got captured by the Magnolia police…I think that's what I was doing…" his voice trailed off uncertainly, and Gray frowned. The kid wasn't running a fever (miraculously), so why had he been so unresponsive? Apparently, the uncertain mental state had going for days now, since before Jung had been captured. Had the news of the _shibbolorach_ 's role in the _True Narnian_ upset the boy's mental balance that much?

"I didn't want to leave you," blurted out Jung, suddenly, a blush threatening the jutting cheekbones. "But everyone that I have ever been with has died."

"I'm not going to die," rejoined Gray, firmly. Was that why Jung had been so upset? If so, he was highly mistaken. "I—and Fairy Tail, too—am going to help you gain access to an MI lacryma and publish the proof that you need. But what about this enemy you mentioned? Who is it?" Jung sighed, leaning back in obvious exhaustion.

"I don't know. I caught rumor of a powerful magic-user that is heading towards Magnolia right after I left y—I mean, Fairy Tail. I don't remember much, so I'll have to go back and get new information," the kid finished wearily. Gray eased himself onto the couch next to the kid, careful to maintain some space between them.

"So what's the bigger problem—the enemy, or the government?" The doorbell rang at that moment, as if to answer Gray's question. Gray exchanged a wary glance with Jung before cautiously creeping towards the door. He looked at the camera. It was Natsu, and the dragon slayer's face was unusually grim. Gray frowned and quickly opened the door.

"What is it?" he asked, skipping the preambles.

"We have a problem," said Natsu.


	13. Chapter 12

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima. :)

NATSU

"We have a problem," stated Natsu grimly, letting himself into what was apparently yet another new apartment. He realized a moment later that he and Gray were not alone in the room. "Who the hell is that?" he demanded.

The stripper rolled his eyes (typical) and sat down beside the kid. Natsu didn't miss the "touch him, you die" aura radiating from Gray—it was hard to miss—and narrowed his eyes. This stupid _kid_ was the reason that Gray had dropped off the face of the earth and pointedly neglected to tell his nakama anything?

"Natsu," snapped Gray. "Don't worry about it. He's a friend. Now what's going on?" Natsu glared at the kid for good measure. "Natsu!" barked Gray.

"The House was attacked," said Natsu flatly. The two reactions that occurred were vastly different.

"What!?" exclaimed Gray, jumping up and automatically taking a defensive position, while the kid simultaneously asked "When?", leaning forward in a ridiculously level-headed manner. Natsu frowned. It was unlike Gray to be so excitable. Was it because of the kid?

"Just a few minutes ago," he explained. "Levy just told us. It was a bomb—killed eleven house members."

"Do you have a list of who was killed?" asked the kid.

"Gray, who is this? And why are you so uptight?" asked Natsu, unwilling to put off that particular explanation any longer.

"I'm Hull, and I'll need any information you have right now," said the kid. He stood up, swaying, and Gray jumped in to support him. Natsu glared at the kid again. Seriously, Gray was freaking out for this?

"Yeah right. You? You can't even stand up properly," he retorted. There was no way in seven hells that this stupid kid could be Hull. Natsu took a step forward, intending to intimidate, and was promptly knocked to the floor, skidding to the other side of the apartment and taking out Gray's kitchen table on the way.

"What the hell, stripper?" he snarled, jumping to his feet.

"Stay away from him, Natsu," said Gray, just as vehement. "He _is_ Hull, and he's the only one that can help us with this right now. Do we have any more information right now?"

"Now we do!" exclaimed an excited voice, and Levy burst in, Gajeel close on her heels.

GAJEEL

"Sorry, stripper," drawled Gajeel. "I tried to stop him, but flamebrain here is seriously fast when he puts his mind to it."

"Here's the information we have so far," said Levy breathlessly. She held out a lacryma. Gajeel watched with amusement as the bean kid took it and examined it. Jung was not only ignoring the very-tangible tension between Natsu and Gray, but was instantly and wholly absorbed by the information, standing right where he was. This was definitely the same bean kid that had been in Gajeel's apartment, but his whole demeanor was different. Even if the Master hadn't filled them in, Gajeel would have been able to put two and two together—this bean kid was none other than Hull.

"What do you think?" asked Gray, his eyes never leaving Natsu. Gajeel smirked. It had been a long time since any one person could distract Gray from a potential brawl with Natsu. This bean kid was more than just a 'friend,' no matter what Gray said.

"11 House members were killed, and most of them were those I suspect are connected to the Aslanic church. Initial reports claim it was the work of…" Jung paused, "…the Hull party." At that, Gray was completely distracted, and turned his back on Natsu to look over Jung's shoulder. Gajeel raised an eyebrow at an infuriated Natsu. Despite the gravity of the situation, it was immensely amusing to watch the reactions of the short-tempered flamebrain.

"Why would they do that?" asked Gray. "Surely the public won't blame you for this?"

"Oh, but they will," said Jung, looking up at Gray. He ignored Gajeel, Levy, and Natsu completely. "But that's not the point. I don't believe this was the work of the 'Hull Party' at all."

"What do you mean?" asked Gray.

"I mean…" the bean kid trailed off as he swayed on his feet. His set face wavered and his shoulders slumped. Gray put an arm around the thin shoulders and guided Jung back to the couch.

"Easy there," Gray murmured. Gajeel resisted the irrational desire to look away. It's not like this was a private moment or anything. Really, the kid was special to Gray, but he couldn't be _that_ special …right?

"I'm fine," rasped Jung, but the coughing fit that followed his reply belied his words. Gajeel felt Levy stir at his side, and smiled at her instinctive desire to help. He laid one hand on her shoulder and gave her a pointed look. Jung would most definitely clam up if anyone other than Gray approached him, Hull persona or no.

"I mean, I think this was the work of a Dark Guild funded by the Aslanic party," finished Jung finally.

"Are the Dark Guilds turning against them?" asked Natsu, clearly interested despite himself.

"No," breathed Levy. Gajeel recognized the 'I-get-it-now' tone in her voice. "The Aslanic faction arranged for the attack themselves."

"That's right," confirmed Jung. "They know my MO, and they know I'm going to release proof of their atrocities soon. This is a preemptive strike on their part, an attempt to discredit me in the eyes of the public."

"They killed their own comrades?" snarled Natsu. Flames curled around his clenched fists.

"Can you prove it?" asked Gray, anxiously. "If the public discredits you now…"

"I know," said Jung. "Let me think for a moment." Silence fell in the apartment, broken only by Natsu's muttered tirade against those who would betray their own nakama. Gajeel felt tempted to join him. He'd know that the parties were messed up, but this went beyond political corruption. This was murder for the sake of creating a scandal.

HULL

 _I cannot be discredited now, or I will be unable to speak at all, let alone save the populace from their own government. This explosion was not caused by the Hull Party. I may not be connected to the Hull Party, but I am well aware of who they are and what methods they use. As much as I dislike their cavalier use of my name, I know that they wouldn't orchestrate such a catastrophe. My political instincts have never been wrong before…but how can I prove it?_

"I know how we can prove it," said the dragon slayer suddenly. Hull looked up, surprised. He was certainly not expecting support from the disbeliever across the room anytime soon. As though to corroborate this thoughts, Natsu sent him a scathing frown. "Listen, I don't like you," the infamous mage said bluntly. _The feeling is mutual._ "But Gray trusts you, so I'm going to roll with it. We need to look at their methods—"

"and see if we can attach the MO to a particular Dark Guild," finished Hull. His mind was churning already with the possibilities. There were so many things to be done…

"Wouldn't they have thought of that?" asked the pierced dragon-slayer that Hull vaguely recognized as an ally of Jung. He frowned. More people knew his identity now, but it couldn't be helped. He needed some help if he wanted to publish his proof.

"Possibly. However, the Hull Party has not conducted an attack like this in the past, so they _don't have_ a particular method for terrorist attacks. Dark Guilds, on the other hands, have well-known signatures for these kind of attacks. They may have tried to disguise the signature, but some trace of it is probably present."

"What do you need us to do?" asked Gray, laying a hand on his shoulder. Hull ignored the Jung side of him and his wildly accelerating heartbeat, choosing to focus on the situation at hand.

"I need to accomplish several things at once," he answered, coolly outlining his thoughts out loud. "Proving a Dark Guild's role in the explosion at once is critical. I need to find proof and publish it before midnight tonight, before the media frenzy dies down. I cannot, however, go to the scene of the explosion in person."

"I've got this," said Natsu. "Me and Lucy can go. I'm familiar with most of the signatures, and Lucy can use her newspaper connections to make sure it gets out on an official channel."

"The idiot uses his brain," Gajeel said sarcastically.

"Excellent," said Hull. "I would appreciate your help," he continued gravely, catching and holding Natsu's gaze. There was a heartbeat of silence before Natsu nodded.

"I'll go right now," he said, and promptly vanished. Hull frowned in concentration.

"I'll need to publish that on my channels as well…" he mused. "But I need to be publishing proof the atrocities of both churches shortly after that, particularly the Aslanic church within the House. I also need to find out more information about the enemy…" He faltered, coughing, and his mental resolve crumbled.

JUNG

Jung coughed, his mind suddenly shaken. He looked up in fear at the intimidating dragon slayer and the blue-haired mage still in the room. So many people knew now. Would they die too? Was everyone going to die who had ever known him? Surely no one could survive an encounter with Hull.

"Jung?" Jung turned to Gray at the sound of the ice mage's cool voice. Gray had been upset earlier, but Hull had stepped in. Jung was glad that Gray was back to his normal self. He didn't think he could handle an upset Gray right now. He put his head in his hands, trying to ignore the screaming fear that Gray was going to die soon and he _couldn't bear the thought of losing him_.

"Are you alright, Jung?" asked Gray, anxious. Jung raised his head, trying to concentrate, but Hull was gone. Nevertheless, the mental framework lay just beneath the surface as it always had. It was instinctual, but the absence of Hull made it much harder to access rationally.

"I need to access a government lacryma," he said finally. "And I need a hacker." _But please don't actually listen to my request, because someone will probably die_.

"I can help with that," said Levy promptly. "And I know someone who can help us with the hacking." Gajeel groaned.

"Don't tell me you're talking about that freakin' womanizer from Blue Pegasus."

"Hibiki is the only one who can access information like that," protested Levy. She turned to Jung, her face concerned. "But won't you need to be with us?" Jung frowned, trying to think, but Gray was right next to him, and he just wanted to bury his head in Gray's chest and cling to the cold…

"Warren can act as the middle man," suggested Gray. "This apartment can be the HQ, and Warren can go with Lucy and Natsu first, then go with Levy and Hibiki. It's too dangerous for Jung to be seen in the government builidings again. But we need to contact Blue Pegusus and let everyone know what's going on."

"No, no," said Jung, startled out of his confusion. "Too many people know."

"Fairy Tail will protect you," said Levy, misreading Jung's statement.

"No one will die, Jung," said Gray, moving to kneel in front of Jung's hunched form and holding his gaze. "I am going to protect you and we will all protect each other. We need to tell people. You can't do this by yourself. You don't _need_ to do this by yourself. You have nakama that can help you now. You have me." Jung shook his head helplessly. Couldn't Gray see?

"The _shibbolorach_ ," he said softly.

"is gone. The time for secrecy is over, Jung," said Gray softly. He leaned forward and took Gray's head in his hands, bringing his own head forward until their foreheads touched. Jung allowed the contact ( _just once_ ) and they remained in the position until Gajeel coughed.

"What about this enemy you keep talking about?" he asked. Jung blushed and pulled back from Gray, drawing his legs up onto the couch and putting his arms around his knees defensively.

"I can't…remember," he admitted. "I heard about a powerful magic user from one of my sources, but I was trying to find a government MI lacryma and everything was…" he let his sentence trail off, punctuating his memory loss with a vague wave of his hand.

"What about that Calormen at the coffee shop?" asked Gray. Jung nodded.

"I'll have to go there in person," he muttered quietly. Gajeel scowled ferociously, and Jung shrank further into the corner of the couch.

"You're on every hit list everywhere," the intimidating dragon slayer pointed out bluntly. "And it's going to get even worse now that Fairy Tail is involved."

"Is there any way you can contact him remotely?" asked Gray. Jung shook his head.

"Then we need to go now," said Gray decisively. "Gajeel and Levy, let everyone know what's going on. I think the Master will cooperate, and he can mobilize people and contact Blue Pegasus. I'll stay with Jung and protect him. We need to find out about this enemy, and the longer we wait to venture outside, the worse it will get."

"Right. Don't get killed," said Gajeel. "C'mon Levy." And like that, the two were gone, shutting the door behind them.

"Are you OK, Jung?" asked Gray. Jung unfolded himself and stood once more.

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice shook. They both knew he was lying. _But_ , Jung thought grimly as they left, _we both know that I don't have any other choice right now_.


	14. Chapter 13

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima. :)

RIKISH

The young Calormene fidgeted restlessly behind the counter, drumming his fingers on the countertop. He hadn't seen Hull in days, and he had some seriously important information that needed to be told. He stood and strode to the window, flipping the grimy sign around so it read "CLOSED" from the outside. He didn't usually resort to actually closing down the shop—too many closings, and he'd get a visit from those stupid Paslan officers—but he couldn't keep up the energetic clerk act up today.

He jumped to sit on top of the counter, drumming his fingers faster. He was all for the Hull party and everything, but this was…well, he hadn't expected to feel like his life was in mortal danger or anything. He had just planned to be an information runner for the radicals scattered throughout Magnolia. He had _not_ expected to host the base for Hull himself. This wasn't just a rebellious lark anymore, and Rikish didn't like it.

The bell hanging from the door clattered and Rikish jumped, landing on his feet to face the intruders defensively.

"Relax," drawled the dark-haired mage. Rikish didn't relax. He only trusted the slight figure that huddled one pace behind this muscle-bound show off. He didn't know why Hull would trust the mage either, but that was Hull's business.

"Easy for you to say," snapped Rikish, indulging his irritation for a moment. Then he turned his entire attention towards Hull, who had come forward and thrown off his hood to face the Calormene.

"What's wrong?" the radical writer asked.

"We have a problem," said Rikish. The mage groaned.

"That's the second time we've heard that today," he muttered. Rikish glared at him, but Hull ignored the brutish fellow, so Rikish would too.

"You've heard about the enemy?" he asked. Hull nodded.

"You have more information?"

"Unfortunately," replied Rikish tersely. "We didn't have much information before, but he's definitely made himself known now. He was part of a Dark Guild—apparently—but guess which Dark Guild was found razed this morning?"

"Any survivors?" asked Hull grimly. Rikish didn't miss the way the writer gripped the counter tightly with one white-knuckled hand. He sighed; he had hoped he could deliver some better news to the writer, even if it did put them both in danger.

"No. Eyewitness reports are saying it was brutal. This guy's a freakin' psychopath, completely out of control. No one even knows what he wants, but he's heading toward Magnolia—fast. He was in down by the Calormen-Archenland border, but he'll be here within days."

"What are his abilities?" asked the mage. Rikish frowned. Hull turned to face the mage himself, shaking his head.

"I'll handle this," Rikish heard him murmur softly. The mage, who now had stripped off his shirt for no apparent reason, frowned as well, but he shut his mouth and gave Hull some space.

"He's right, though," said Hull, turning back to Rikish. "Are there any clear reports?"

"Just that he used some sort of fire magic," said Rikish. Hull cringed visibly, using both hands to support himself now.

"Anything…" the writer coughed, and the dark-haired one stirred uneasily in the corner. "Anything else? What about the guild? Who were they?"

"Cyanide Blossoms," said Rikish. "Do you know anything about them?" Hull nodded, coughing. The irritating one came forward this time, laying one hand on Hull's shoulder. Rikish took a step forward, but Hull just brushed off the hand and continued hoarsely.

"They've been in power since the war, and playing both sides. I believe they provided assassination support for the Aslanic faction in the House in return for funding, and Aslanic secrets to the Tashlanian church in return for the use of any new weapons that Archenland developed," he said wearily. "I've heard they were quite powerful. Even if it was an inside job…" he shook his head, and Rikish tapped his fingers nervously against his leg. This wasn't looking good, not at all.

GRAY

"Even if it was an inside job…" trailed off Jung, and Gray watched him nervously. He wasn't even sure whether Hull or Jung was in control. The logical train of thought seemed to indicate Hull, but the lack of coherency and display of physical weakness was much more consistent with Jung's character as of late. Perhaps the kid had managed to fuse both for the sake of the current predicament.

It was definitely a predicament. It seemed they would have to protect the larger population sooner rather than later, and the only way they could do so was to have Hull help rally them, and the only way to do that was to reaffirm Hull's reputation and quash any rumors that had sprung from the bombing this morning. Gray hovered a few paces behind the kid. He didn't doubt that Hull could do it and save the day…but he was worried about just how much energy Hull would pull out of Jung in return for services rendered.

His train of thought was broken by a slew of images, and he stiffened as he recognized Warren's presence in his mind.

"Natsu and Lucy," he said, not caring if the Calormene human made the connection to Fairy Tail or not. They were way past that. "They're at the scene of the bombing."

"What have they discovered?" asked the kid, turning to face him. His eyes were intently focused, indicating his complete shift of attention to the situation at hand. He had stood up straight, his shoulders set, and his face was stern. Well, that answered the question of who was in control at the moment.

"One second," Gray said, closing his eyes to decipher the message. "Warren can't connect to you directly! I had forgotten about that…but I think I can transmit the messages to you. This might hurt though, since you don't have magic." He opened his eyes to find the kid had already moved directly in front of him. Hull nodded sharply, and Gray cradled the kid's head gently, two fingers on either side of his warm brown eyes.

He took a deep breath. He had only had rudimentary training in this technique once from Warren, and he wasn't at all sure he was capable of delivering any message at all, let alone do so without hurting the kid terribly. He closed his eyes and focused his magic inwards, trying to remember the mental strategies, so different from his normal ice-make magic. It wasn't a specialized skill, by any means, but far subtler than the methods Gray was used to employing.

Ju—Hull—stiffened under Gray's hands. He was seeing something, that much was sure. Gray focused on the images coming from Warren.

"The dragon slayer identified traces of the primary incendiary element," murmured Hull. "It belongs to one of the Dark Guilds on the outskirts of town. They have definite ties to the Aslanic faction, ties even the public has caught rumor of. They were careless to use such a method; in their haste to discredit Hull, they have compromised their own operation."

Gray winced as images of Natsu's reaction started coming through, and Jung—Hull—whoever, pulled away with a swift intake of breath. Gray opened his eyes. The kid was hunched over, hands on knees. So much for attempting not to hurt him.

"I am unable to sustain the connection," Hull said, straightening slowly. "Was the Celestial mage able to use her connections within the newspaper office?"

Gray nodded as the last of the message came through.

"Yes. And the Master is using his influence to make sure her article goes out ASAP. The story will be out within the hour."

"You're working with Fairy Tail?" The young Calormene's voice somehow managed to convey incredulity and worry at the same time. "Isn't this going to put you in more danger?" Hull ignored the question entirely.

"Thank you for the information," he said stiffly, giving a slight bow to the Calormene. "I will have a trusted source deliver my pamphlets within a few hours. They must be copied and distributed immediately." Then he turned on his heel, pulling up his hood as he went. Gray followed in his wake, leaving the nervous Radical informer behind them.

LEVY

"Warren's on his way, and Hibiki will be here shortly," said the Master.

"About time," grunted Gajeel, and Levy gave him a frown. Everything was going according to the plan, even faster than they had expected.

"Everything's perfect so far," she said briskly, trying to reassure him.

"Don't jinx it, Shrimp," he warned ominously. "It's going too well. This isn't over, not by a long shot. Don't tell me you've forgotten about the great psychopath we just learned about." They were sitting in the main hall of the guild, along with most of the guild members, who were uncharacteristically silent as they waited for news, ready to support their nakama at a moment's notice.

"I haven't forgotten anything," said Levy indignantly. "I'm just saying that it's going well." She gave him a pointed glance, indicating the anxious faces around her. It wouldn't hurt to give everyone a morale boost, and vague warnings certainly weren't helping in that department.

"Too well," repeated Gajeel stubbornly. As if to back up his words, the Master stood abruptly. A new message from Warren was coming in.

"They've been attacked. Hull is hurt—and Happy, apparently," he reported. He opened his eyes and promptly began giving orders.

"Wendy and Charle, report to the apartment HQ. They'll need your help immediately; only minor injuries, but Hull needs to be intact. Erza, please go with them and help guard the perimeter. Natsu and Lucy are already there." Levy stood, ready to offer her help, before she remembered what she needed to do. She sat back down, running her hands through her tangled blue hair. Gajeel was right.

"You didn't actually jinx it," the dragonslayer in question muttered into her ear, and she jumped. He knew her far too well. "Don't worry about the bean kid—if Gray is there, whoever hurt the kid is long dead by now, and Gray is doing everything short of healing magic to help him. He'll be fine." Levy smiled weakly, reassured. She put her own small hand in Gajeel's for a moment, drawing strength from his presence.

As the guild doors slammed back to let a raging Titania out, a sparkling Hibiki slid in.

"Hibiki!" exclaimed Levy. She ran to meet him, Gajeel in her wake. The womanizer was (for once) not womanizing, taking in the situation with a worried glance.

"Go," said the Master, and the three ran out as well. As they drew closer to the courthouse, they were forced to slow down. Levy tried to bury her impatience, pasting a smile on her face. The streets were packed with people, a great many of which were clustered around the newspaper office where Lucy worked.

"HULL FRAMED BY TREACHEROUS HOUSE MEMBERS" Lucy read over someone's shoulder. She grinned wickedly. Lucy certainly knew how to whip up a crowd. That girl had serious writing skills; she had been able to get this article out, then make it to the HQ in the span of two hours. Her grin soon faded, however. Trying to make their way through the crowd was proving difficult, not without drawing attention to themselves.

If all these people were here when that psychopath showed up, they would have a whole city of messy casualties on their hands. They needed to get the proof that Hull needed, sooner rather than later.

JUNG

"I'm so sorry," Jung whispered, bowing towards a distraught Natsu. He winced as the movement aggravated the gash running up the side of his ribs and he stumbled.

"Sit down, idiot. You're losing too much blood," said Gray firmly. He sat Jung down in a kitchen chair, holding a cloth to the injury. Jung barely registered his own spasm of pain that resulted. His eyes were fixed on the blue Exceed on the table. While the winged cat wasn't bleeding, he was definitely out cold, and Natsu was not happy about it.

"I'm sorry," he muttered again. He'd know that this would happen. He'd known that people would get hurt. "I'm so sorry." Natsu didn't even bother to speak, merely giving Jung an accusatory glare before turning back to his friend. Jung shrunk away. _They were all going to die at his hands._

"Jung," said Gray. "Look at me. Focus, OK? Happy's going to fine. He's just knocked out." Jung shook his head, grimacing as Gray put more pressure on the wound. They had met Natsu, Happy, and Lucy on the way back from _Chake Coffee_. The assailants, apparently made desperate by the recent news release, had attacked in broad daylight. Happy had taken Jung while the three mages made quick work of the attackers.

That, unfortunately, had been the point of the exercise. The diversion had held the three mages up just long enough for the spell to knock Happy out of the sky and send Jung right into the waiting knife blade of the second team. Jung was reasonably sure that both groups of assailants were now unable to move, if alive at all. But it had been all his fault, again. _It always was. Just like when the sea ate one two brothers, it was all his fault_.

"Jung! I need you to focus." Gray's voice was insistent, and Jung reluctantly opened his eyes to meet Gray's worried face.

"I'm here." A short bob of blue hair appeared swimmingly in front of Jung's vision and he blinked. He felt the familiar tug of magic, and the pain disappeared from his side. His vision didn't clear, though, even when he felt the magic release.

"He lost a lot of blood. Get some fluids and food in him," came the unfamiliar voice and the blue hair moved away. There was a lot of noise by the table, but Gray wouldn't let him look.

"Look at me, Jung. That's it. Drink this." He swallowed the water obediently and Gray's dark eyes came into focus. "There you go." Jung looked at Happy, who was now sitting up straight and chattering excitedly to Charle.

"How are you feeling?" asked Gray.

"Fine," said Jung, finding his voice and standing swiftly.

"Whoa there," said Gray, swiftly supporting him as he swayed on his feet once again. "You lost a lot of blood."

"I need to get pamphlets out," Jung ground out, standing determinedly. "They need to hear it from Hull himself."

"You can do that sitting down," retorted Gray, turning him back to the chair. Jung acquiesced reluctantly, drawing his paper and pen towards him with shaking hands. He started to write, but almost immediately turned to Gray.

"I can't focus when you're so close," he admitted in a whisper.

"Right, right," said Gray, smirking and winking at Jung. Jung just scowled, turning to his work with a rather vicious energy. He really needed to stop admitting weakness, turn everyone away…but it was _Gray_.

GAJEEL

"We're in!" announced Hibiki. Gajeel glared at him.

"Be louder, will ya? We're trying _not_ to draw attention to ourselves." He turned away from the mage, who had started regaining that creepy Blue Pegasus enthusiasm. The courthouse was nearly deserted; all the government workers had their hands full with the bombing incident, for which Gajeel was thankful. They had been able to find a government MI lacryma fairly easily.

"Get started," he ordered gruffly. Hibiki saluted.

"What are we looking for though?" the mage asked a moment later, not looking up. "I can break in, but I need to know where to go from here."

"I'll connect to Gray," said Warren, speaking up for the first time. Gajeel eyed him carefully. The mage looked tired, but not exhausted. He'd be able to help for a long time yet. Gajeel let himself grin, just a little. Of course Warren would hold out—he was a member of Fairy Tail.

"You can't connect to Hull directly?" Gajeel asked a moment later. "That would make things faster, that's for sure."

"Hull doesn't have magic," explained Levy. "Besides, Warren has never met him."

"How is this supposed to work then?" grumbled Gajeel. "How did Bunny girl do it?"

"Gray is sending the images directly to Hull somehow," answered Levy. "I don't really understand how he's doing that, to be honest. Hull doesn't have magic, and Gray doesn't have telepathic magic."

"I taught him a little once," murmured Warren, his eyes fixed on the lacryma and his fingers to his temple. "It's a fairly rudimentary technique, but I'm surprised that Gray was able to connect as well. The two must have a connection of some sort." Gajeel wasn't given time to consider the implications of _that_ statement, for Hibiki exclaimed (annoyingly loudly, as per the norm) a moment later.

"I'm in!" Hibiki was triumphant, hands manipulating a complex array over the lacryma keyboard. "What information do we need?" Gajeel turned to Warren.

"Well?"

"A moment…" said Warren. He shut his eyes tight in concentration. "OK. Three different groups of information. First: information about a fire manipulation mage who wiped out a Dark Guild called Cyanide Blossoms this morning. Second: any and all communication between the Tashlanian church and Archenland, especially dating from the Silent War. Third: Inter-House memos exchanged between House members, especially those with a suspected Aslanic connection. Focus on any communication relating to the bombing."

"That's it?" asked Gajeel skeptically. Well, that was a lot, but didn't the bean kid need more to overthrow the Paslan or whatever the hell he was going to do? He looked to Levy, but she shrugged and looked at Warren.

"…that's all he can do for now," said Warren, having apparently asked the question already. "That's all we have time for, I guess. His main goal…is trying to get everybody evacuated before this enemy shows up."

"Hikir," Hibiki piped up suddenly. "That's our psychopath."

"Hi-keer?" questioned Gajeel. "What kind of a name is that?"

"As compared to Gajeel?" asked Levy pointedly. "When will he be here, Hibiki?"

"Tomorrow. I need to download this information. With Gray's help, I might be able to place it in Jung's mind directly. In any case, there's too much information to transmit now. I'll download as much as I can, then I need to get to Gray and Hull." Gajeel sighed. This was getting more and more complicated by the minute. Getting Hibiki safely to the HQ was just another problem on top of the substantial heap of problems they already had.

HULL

… _as you can see, all of us have been betrayed, not only by the churches, but by the very government that swore to protect us. Now we, the people of Magnolia especially, are the ones in danger as a result. Hikir is on his way here, destroying everything in his path._

 _I must urge every citizen to evacuate, and evacuate immediately. Hikir will reach Magnolia by tomorrow evening, and you do not want to be here when he does. Let me say again: this is the work of both the Aslanic faction within the House and the Tashlanian radicals. The Aslanic church has been bribing and corrupting officials behind a complacent Paslan's back. The Tashlanian church has been funding Archenland weapon development. Both sides have caused enough trouble on their own to bring about turmoil, but the two combined have brought about catastrophe._

 _The proof I have included is undeniable; you can see the government ID stamped clearly at the top of every document. First, despite the government's attempts to suppress the news, Hikir is most definitely on his way. He seems to have no other motive besides mindless destruction. The House has backed away, denying any claims and accusing me of causing 'panic.' Panic? Your very lives are at stake. You_ _ **must**_ _leave, and you must do so now. The government integrated the North by force, did it not? Then let the government make use of it, and provide the people of Magnolia with some much-needed asylum._

 _Second, not only has the Aslanic church been funding the Dark Guilds that remain a persistent problem, but they have now resorted to brutal violence against their own members, simply to spread a rumor about me. Are we to remain passive and silent under such a government? I think not. Third, the Tashlanian church has largely absorbed almost every weapons manufacturing facility in the country. The weapons from the Silent War, fused with enough black magic to wipe out cities, have not been destroyed. No, they remain with the Tashlanian church, as you can see by the communication between the two parties._

 _We were in an age of peace, or so or government claimed. Did they get tired of the war that they started? It is almost certain that in 29 A.D., the Aslanic government killed 39 of their own civilians to jumpstart a war with Archenland, a war that killed thousands of soldiers and mages and lasted four long years. With this bloodshed as a precedent, it should not come as a surprise that they would turn upon the members of their own party. Peace? No. We have not been at peace since the mythical Golden Age of the four Kings and Queens. The government and the churches have ensured that Narnia has known nothing but war, and the government and churches have both prospered as a result. They see war as a profit, and care nothing for the people._

 _I must conclude by once again emphasizing the need to escape. Fairy Tail and Blue Pegasus guild members will assist you in this regard. For not only will you need protection from Dark Guilds, but perhaps from your own government as well. We cannot blame the Paslan—to do so would be like blaming a doll. The Paslan is a figurehead whom the people admire (or maybe now, admir_ _ **ed**_ _), but he is relatively useless. The fight to save Magnolia and Narnia comes down to us, and your job is to escape. Get out now, while you can. I suggest the same to the few loyal House members. Let us hope that your services will be needed in the near future._

 _I will stay. I will fight the evil from all sides to the best of my ability. I ask for neither help nor advice. The guilds are acting of their own accord; I, as always, work alone. I will keep you informed. I will support what legitimacy remains within our constitutional monarchy. I will stand alone, if need be, and protect the people from all sides. The storm is coming. I suggest you prepare for it._


	15. Chapter 14

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima. :)

MAKAROV

"Hull." Makarov greeted the skinny kid with a slight nod. Gray and Hull looked up simultaneously and Gray waved him over. Besides the pair of them (which were suspiciously close together, Makarov noticed), there was actually quite a small crowd in Gray's apartment; Warren, Gajeel, Levy, Wendy, Charle, and Erza gathered on one side of the table, while Natsu, Lucy, and Happy gathered on the other.

"What's our situation?" asked Makarov, drawing up a chair. A large map of Magnolia was spread out across the table, and by the mugs clustered in the stray corners, Makarov gathered that everyone had been here for some time already. The sun had already set, but the sky outside the window was still streaked with color.

"We're trying to find a good way to stop this psychopath," said Gray, who had obviously taken charge of planning. "We just managed to get Hull's pamphlet out into the public a little while ago, and I've brought everybody up to speed on what we're facing."

"Master, has there been any reaction in the public?" asked Lucy anxiously. "I can corroborate Hull's story with an article of my own through the newspaper."

"Please do," interrupted Hull, not waiting for Makarov's response. "Regardless of the population's current response, the more conservative side will undoubtedly believe you more than me. Don't mention my name, however." Makarov frowned. He admired Hull's courage, but wasn't the kid biting off more than he could chew? Hull was literally standing between the entire government and the people; surely he would see the necessity of allying himself with Fairy Tail?

"There has been _some_ response," Makarov replied finally, his words slow and careful. "But I'd agree with Hull—there's a large percentage that will probably only respond to a more official channel. Lucy?" Lucy nodded, and the Celestial mage left, followed by Natsu and Happy.

"Now, how are we going to beat this Hikir guy?" asked Erza. They bent over the map, silent for a moment. Makarov spared a few seconds to examine Hull. The kid was wearing a loose shirt (obviously Gray's) that slipped off his shoulder, exposing a bony ridge of collar bone. He was pale, but given the dishes around him, Gray had been encouraging him to eat and drink, which was good.

"Here," stated Gray firmly, tapping the map.

"Cut him off before he reaches the bulk of the city," said Gajeel. "I like it." Gray was pointing to a gully that was just outside the city outskirts.

"How do we know he's even going to go in there?" asked Levy, frowning.

"We'll force him in there," said Erza. Makarov nodded.

"Good," he approved. "And once he's in there…?"

"I will be his opponent," said Gray grimly.

JUNG

Jung looked up with startled eyes. Gray would be the opponent of a _psychopath_?

"Why you?" he asked, before he could stop himself. Gray's eyes softened, but his voice remained stern as he replied.

"All we know about Hikir is that he uses fire magic. We need to fight fire with ice, and I can do that."

"All by your lonesome, stripper?" asked Gajeel, one spiky eyebrow raised. "What about Juvia? She would be able to help—maybe you two could even do that combined spell-thingy." Jung felt an irrational spike of jealousy, but Gray was already shaking his head.

"Juvia's already gone, protecting the people who are leaving the city. You and Levy should join them; we don't want any civilians to get caught in the cross fire. The remainder of the guild should spread out along the road—here," he placed one finger on the map, "and conduct some guerilla attacks. We want to avoid casualties, so we just want to weaken him. Erza can force him into the gully, I'll set up some traps, and then fight him one on one."

Makarov's phone rang, and he scurried to one answer to answer it, leaving Gray to bicker with Erza and Gajeel at the table. Jung heard none of it as he sank back in his chair. He was seized with a sudden and completely illogical wave of fear. _Snap out of it_ , he admonished himself sternly. _Gray is powerful. He'll defeat this Hikir, and I…_ Jung's train of thought floundered. What could he possibly do?

"Shut up!" shouted Makarov. The arguing mages fell silent as the Master approached the table again, his face set in a scowl.

"There's been a complication," said Makarov. "That useless Paslan wants to help. In fact, he's already deploying troops to the outskirts." Jung knew that his voice should have been the first in the flurry of conversation that followed, but he was too busy trying not to imagine Gray's gory demise (and unfortunately failing).

"We'll just have to work with them," said Gray finally. "Gajeel and Levy, I changed my mind. Can you two work as liaisons? We'll need some firm organization, or the whole plan will fall apart before it's even set into motion."

"That's about as good of a plan as we're going to get," said Makarov, cutting off Gajeel's impending protest. "Let's re-group at Fairy Tail and divide our forces. Warren, can you contact Blue Pegasus with the updates?" The group left quickly under Makarov's booming direction, leaving Gray and Jung alone. Gray pulled a chair out to sit across the corner from Jung, sighing.

"You don't know anything about this mage. Facing him without enough prior intel is illogical," protested Jung finally, trying to put some Hull into his voice, trying not to sound desperate, _trying not to beg Gray to stay here and stay alive, because Gray was quickly becoming…_

"I have to, Jung," said Gray. "But you don't. You should evacuate too." Jung shook his head, panic re-blooming in his chest. Gray couldn't send him away. He needed to stay and help.

"I can help," he insisted obstinately. "I can…" He trailed off as he was brought back to his previous dilemma. What could he do?

GRAY

Gray watched the kid flounder with equal parts fondness and exasperation. Jung couldn't injure a squirrel, much less a powerful, psychotic fire mage.

"I can do it, I can fight!" said Jung stubbornly, seeing Gray's skepticism.

"Look, I know you would," said Gray. "But this guy is powerful. I doubt he'll have much more than a scratch by the time he gets to me. I just don't want you to get hurt." His last sentence came out far more choked than he had intended it to be. Ye gads, what was this skinny kid doing to him? Gray looked away deliberately. It surely had something to do with those brown eyes.

"I'm not leaving," said Jung. Gray didn't look up, not even when he heard Jung leave the table. He sighed. Despite being physically weak, Jung had a steely determination that was shot through with quick-wrought anger. More often than not, that anger was tempered, honed as a weapon to use against political injustice. However, as adept Jung was at manipulating his emotions to serve his abstract cause, he was less skilled at navigating interpersonal relationships. Not that Gray blamed the kid.

Gray sipped his cold coffee, trying very hard not to look over at the couch where Jung had apparently fled to. He gave up about thirty seconds later and walked over to the couch, where Jung had curled up in the corner. He sat down next to the kid, giving him a bit of space, but still remaining close. Jung kept his head down; Gray could see the tension in the thin shoulders and narrow jaw. Tentatively, he put one hand on Jung's shoulder. The kid didn't move away, but his muscles tensed further.

"Jung," murmured Gray softly, putting as much warmth into his voice as he could muster. Jung looked up reluctantly. "Please," said Gray, "for my sake, for the people's sake, you have to leave." Jung bit his lip, conflicting emotions flitting across his face.

"I'm not helpless," the kid finally replied. "Just let me stay in Magnolia. I'll stay hidden in Chake Coffee if you wish, but I will not abandon this town." The small voice was growing louder now, and Gray withdrew his hand as he recognized the determined tones of Hull. "I swore to them that I would stand between them and Hikir, between them and the government, and I will. I will do everything in my power to do so, and I can only do that from here. _I will not run_." The final sentence came out in a half-snarl, and Gray drew back.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. Jung looked up, surprised. "I know you are not helpless. Far from it, actually; you are," Gray broke off the sentence abruptly, looking away. The still in the apartment seemed heavy, laden with regret, melancholy, and something else…

"I should leave now," said Jung, breaking Gray's train of thought. "I know what I can do now, but I need to stay with Rikish to facilitate my own means of resistance." He rose abruptly and prepared to leave, sweeping his work into a backpack.

"Take these, at least," said Gray softly, nudging Jung aside to put a water bottle, a first aid kit, and some food into the backpack. "You never know what may happen," he said in reply to Jung's half-exasperated look. Then he handed Jung one of his sweatshirts. Jung looked like he was going to protest, but he pulled the oversized garment over his head anyway. Then Gray made his own preparations; he'd be damned if he was going to spend the night here, not without Jung. He'd stay at Fairy Tail tonight, and move out tomorrow.

By the time they left the apartment, stars were glittering far overhead and the air was cold. They stood in silence, both painfully conscious that if ever there was a time to say goodbye, this was it. They wouldn't be able to talk freely on the main streets near the coffee shop, and tomorrow…well, after tomorrow they might not be able to see each other.

Gray's throat was tight, and he looked at the stars, desperately wishing his characteristic coolness and aloofness would come back to him. Why was everything so much harder with Jung? Why did departure before a battle, something he'd faced a hundred, a thousand times before, suddenly seem like the worst moment of his life. He'd met Jung on a night exactly like this…what, a month ago, maybe? What was this?

He heard his own voice in his mind, far away and echoing from the past. _Jung, I don't mind secrets, but I do mind when my friends start getting kicked around._ He'd always had the ability to form attachments quickly—it came naturally, in Fairy Tail—but this was something entirely…different, and it hurt; ye gads, it _hurt_. With a sudden rush of desperation, Gray stepped forward and wrapped Jung in his arms.

The air was bitter, the stars bright, the cobblestones slippery, the streetlamp dim...but the only detail Gray felt, no, _breathed_ in was the thin body wrapped tight in his arms, the scent that was Jung wrapped under his own, the whispered voice in his ear that it would be all right. _It'll be all right, Gray_. _It's OK_. And trapped as he was in that moment, Gray almost believed it.


	16. Chapter 15

I own nothing. All rights belong to C.S. Lewis and Hiro Mashima :)

LEVY

For being the potential end of peace and prosperity, the day was startlingly nice. The air was cold, but the sun shone bright. Levy took a deep breath, enjoying a moment of peace before turning back to the hustle and bustle at hand. The Paslan's colors of red and gold stood were everywhere, splashing brightly against the white and gray of winter. The voices of hundreds filled the air as the Paslan's soldiers scurried in and out of the ravine, consulting with Gajeel who was consulting with Gray. Everything from dryads to nymphs was running around, stirring up a pre-battle energy that filled the air.

Levy walked in to join Gajeel, who was directing the 37th battalion to a thick grove of trees three miles down the road.

"…again, this is a dangerous guy. Just hit with what you can, guerilla-style, then send him our way. OK?" Gajeel said, addressing the grim badger who led the group.

"Understood," the badger said, saluting sharply. Levy jumped into the conversation, seeing the badger about to turn away.

"Sergeant! You have a lot of dryads in your battalion, don't you?" she asked.

"That's right," said the badger. He was civil and experienced enough not to bat an eye at her diminished height and blue hair, and Levy was profoundly grateful.

"Please tell the dryads to ask the trees if they can help," said Levy earnestly. "Even a few seconds will help us."

"That's an excellent idea. Thank you miss," the badger replied. He gave another salute and ran back towards the road, barking orders as he did. Gajeel looked down at Levy with a toothy smile.

"I always forget how much I like this part," he said. "We may be going to our doom, but gods, does it run through your blood!" Levy just shook your head.

"Whatever you say, warmonger," she said playfully. She caught sight of Gray slouching against the tall boulder that sat in the middle of the ravine and her smile faded. The ice make mage looked…downright depressed, and he (more tellingly) was actually wearing a shirt.

"What's wrong with Gray?" she asked. If Gray couldn't do this, no one would be able to. He was here with lots of nakama, wasn't he?

"I think the bean kid's gone," said Gajeel softly, following her gaze. "Gray probably made him leave, but they work better together." Levy frowned, worry nagging at her. They were facing enough unknowns without throwing a temperamental mage into the mix.

"Relax, Shorty. It's Gray," said Gajeel, throwing an arm around her shoulders and leading her away with a wicked grin. She punched him in mock-irritation, her worry fading. Gajeel was right. Gray may have formed a sudden attachment to this Jung, but he always put Fairy Tail first.

GRAY

Gray fiddled with the hem of his shirt, fingers twitching nervously. The sun was glaring, reflecting off the stark white snow, but his mind dwelt on last night, in a darkness covered by a million stars, with his arms around Jung…he shook his head. He couldn't dwell on this. He couldn't, not with a formidable battle coming up. He needed to concentrate. But the kid…

He was brought back to the present by the sharp sound of trumpets, and he jerked his head up with a start. A mass of red and gold banners were coming from the road into Magnolia, signaling the entrance of the Paslan himself. He straightened hastily, watching the short, chubby man make his way through the melee of soldiers and mages. Despite the trumpets, they paid him no heed. A battle was coming and they had little enough time to organize themselves, let alone paid homage to a political figurehead.

Gray caught the annoyance on the Paslan's face and he smirked. So much for being the monarch of Narnia. The monarch made his way into the ravine, clearly miffed, while the soldiers streamed past him. He stopped, peering around his guards this way and that. Gray sighed; the little ruler was probably looking for him. He made his way towards the ruler, giving him a nod.

"Paslan," he said. The man started, and turned towards him quickly, his guards on either side.

"Gray, is it?" he asked peevishly.

"Yes sir."

"You're going to battle this freak, yes?" the Paslan asked.

"Yes sir."

"Well then…" the Paslan trailed off uncertainly. "Good luck and all that, yes? Do beat him for me." And then he was gone, turning on heel and scurrying away, guards in tow. Gray shook his head, watching him leave. He was probably on his way out of town. He had merely shown in an attempt to gain some respect, some face. Gray smirked again. Jung had made sure that everyone here saw through that attempt. His face fell as he thought of the fiery young radical. Was Jung alright?

HIKIR

 _In the civil war, father died. Yes, yes. And Mother was fanatic, Tashlanian, fanatic, the craziest bitch you've seen. Yes, yes. Fortunately, she died. Than the Aslanic guild, dark, yes. Then I left them and maybe made a few corpses on my way out, because they were standing in between me and an outside. Yes, yes. Of course, Cyanide Blossoms was like a little dragon; cute and adorable and ultimately easily charred like a little marshmallow, because I accidently put the guild in between a wall and me, and what choice did I have but to start them on fire? And it was just going to be a little toasty, but then they were like a little marshmallow dragon and I accidentally burned them up, yes, yes. Now Magnolia, yes, yes. They have lots of little dragons and everything has been on fire over there lately, and how dare they have a fire without me? I am coming, Magnolia! Do light the beacons for my approach, but also make sure you don't come between me—Dryads! Stupid trees, being in the way of a magnificent fire like myself! I'll burn you all…_

JUNG

Jung ran out of _Chake Coffee_ , ignoring the cries of a distraught Rikish behind him, a pistol clutched in his shaking hands. Promise or no promise, he was not going to leave Gray alone like this. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. Far away, he heard already the screams of a dryad and he winced. He had heard that before _in the smoke-filled basement of a different place where the shibbolorach had led everyone to their death at his hand, but Gray saved him from a feverish nightmare_. Jung shook off the nightmares, and forced his aching legs forward, his breath catching in the frigid air.

GRAY

He was coming. Gray stood at the ready, hearing the combined battle cries of Gajeel and Levy just outside the entrance to the ravine. He clenched his fists as their cries were cut off short. Who was this monster? As if to answer his question, a thin, gangly centaur came galloping into the ravine. He was no more than an over-grown colt, his tanned skin stretched over ribs and his black hair laying stringy on his shoulders.

"Oh, hello! Yes, yes," he said, sliding to a halt in front of Gray. "You're in my way and I might burn you until you are melted. Yes, yes. Sorry about that. No one invited me, yes, yes, and I am a fire." Gray's face hardened. Anyone who hurt his comrades didn't deserve the usual chit chat.

"Ice make lance!" he shouted, leaping away. As Hikir raised a hoof and a wall of flame melted Gray's lances, he leaped to the top of the boulder, whispering,

"Ice make clone!" A second Gray jumped in front of the centaur, distracting him. Gray watched the centaur intently, who seemed to be alternately giggling and saying "yes, yes."

"Ice make bow!" shouted Gray 2.0, launching a giant arrow towards the centaur. The centaur waved a hoof distractedly and a tongue of flame split one, two, five, of Gray's arrows. As the clone leaped away from the continuing attack, Gray himself leapt down from the boulder, summoning his devil slayer magic.

The centaur looked up at the last second and waved his arm in a sharp slash. A wave of flame came up and met Gray's slayer magic with his own flame. Gray landed on the ground triumphantly amongst the steam. His devil slayer magic was resistant, even to Natsu's hot flames. There was no way that Hikir's magic—

He was thrown against the boulder with tremendous impact and he fell, gasping. What was this? Surely Hikir wasn't…

"Yes, yes, I have this devil slayer magic too, marshmallow ice man," said Hikir. "I used it to kill the meanest devil I ever knew, yes, yes." Gray leaped to a safe distance, taunting his enemy.

"Anyone that I know?" he sneered, his mind whirling. No wonder Hikir had been able to destroy everything in his path. It was sheer luck that Natsu and Lucy were guarding the civilians. The hot-headed dragon slayer would rush into this half-cocked and get himself killed.

"I rather doubt it," said Hikir, waving a wall of flame towards Gray. _Fast!_ Gray leapt to the side, but not before a tongue of flame ran up his arm, leaving a deep gash that bubbled disgustingly at the edges. _Not just flame, but as sharp as a blade, then_. Hikir peered at him. "Nasty cut there, yes, yes. I didn't think marshmallows were red, but what do I know? Oh, your question. I killed my mother, yes, yes. It was a very fortunate turn of events."

The centaur kept rambling in his reedy voice, despite the fact that he and Gray were exchanging a flurry of vicious blows. Gray was definitely losing, even with his devil slayer magic.

"Ice blade, seven slice dance, blood version!" The centaur wasn't letting him near any new ice to replenish himself, and for every move he made, Hikir had a counter move. The centaur made up for his lack of quick mobility by launching deathly fast, hot, _sharp_ flames in quick succession. He was barely scratched, but Gray was already panting, crouched against the boulder.

"Yes, yes, well I need to keep going now. Sorry about that and I didn't want to use it. Mother was always frightfully angry when I used it. _Memento Mori!_ " Gray scrabbled back in horror as the air around Hikir began to coalesce, lurid scarlet instead of dark green. He gasped as the annihilation curse began to take effect, raising one hand to shield himself, the other held against his shaking body. He could resist it, but only for a couple seconds. _Sorry, Jung._

And then, a gunshot echoed in the icy air. Gray's vision began to grow strange and fuzzy. Suddenly, he was looking up at a blurry Hikir from the ground. The red mist around Hikir dissipated and the centaur collapsed in a heap of dark hair and long legs. Gray frowned, puzzled, but his mind failed altogether and he closed his eyes. _Gray! Gray, please! GRAY!_

GAJEEL

Gajeel wasn't as injured as he could have been. Levy's quick spells had deflected most of the damage, at a rate even Gajeel couldn't muster. As such, when Gajeel sat up groggily, he was able to stand on shaky legs.

"Levy!" he shouted, looking around frantically. Nothing. Gray raised his head, listening. The air was filled with black, billowing smoke. Most of the snow was gone, the ground scarred by lingering heat and flames. Soldiers and mages littered the ground around him, but one shock of blue hair was nowhere to be seen.

Gajeel staggered into the ravine, hoping against hope. Maybe Levy had just been thrown a bit further, that was all.

"Levy!" he shouted.

"Over here!" came her voice, strained and hoarse. Gajeel gasped in relief, thanking whatever gods that may have been, and ran to the center of the ravine, where the smoke was just beginning to clear. He skidded to a halt, taking in the scene in front of him in one shocked second. The ravine was utterly destroyed. The sides were littered with deep, smoking scars, the trees flattened, the ground reduced to smoldering rubble. Amid the ruin of the boulder that had stood in the middle, Levy crouched next to three figures. It was then Gajeel realized that the air was filled with a wild keening, a sort of half-scream, half-sobbed string of incoherent words.

The kid. The kid was here, crouched over Gray's body, thin hands splayed over the gaping wound in Gray's belly. The crumpled body of Hikir lay a short distance away, the head turned away into the dirt. Gajeel frowned. He didn't see any evidence of damage at all on the centaur's body.

"Gajeel, help me out here," said Levy. She was unnaturally pale, and Gajeel crouched beside her quickly, taking in the freely bleeding head wound. She was trying to pull Jung back, but the kid didn't even seem to notice she was there.

"Don't worry about me. Look at Jung," she said between gritted teeth. Gajeel looked more closely at the kid, who was most definitely in shock, spilling out rambled keening in between short, raspy breaths. Gajeel grimaced and bodily pulled him away.

"Kid! Jung!" he shouted, but the kid didn't respond, fighting with surprising strength to escape Gajeel's grasp. Finally, Gajeel knocked him out with a fist, catching the thin body before it could hit the ground. He laid Jung gently beside Gray. This was not a good day.

MAKAROV

In retrospect, Makarov mused, it was a good thing that so many Fairy Tail members had helped with the evacuation. Not only had Hikir's magic laid waste to a good portion of Magnolia, but the fleeing civilians had stumbled right into the middle of a bitter tangle between two dark guilds, one Aslanic and one Tashlanian. Lucy, Natsu, himself and the others had had their hands full just trying to make sure everyone got to safety.

 _Of course, Gray could've used the support back here, too_. Makarov sighed, settling back in his chair. The sun was shining through the infirmary windows, but the sky was still filled with black, oily smoke from the fires that were still burning around town. The guild had been one of the scant handful of buildings left on the outskirts of town. A fortunate turn of events, for Gajeel and Levy had carried in a silent Gray and Jung here, meeting Makarov and Wendy not half an hour after the conflict had ceased.

The guild master stared down at the two figures, a frown creasing his already-wrinkled brow. Jung was curled up on a cot directly adjacent to Gray's, one hand clutched firmly around Gray's fingers, even in sleep. Apparently, the kid had saved them all.

"Dunno quite how he did it," Gajeel had said, laying the young writer down with surprising gentleness. "He must have gotten the shot in that last moment right before the _memento mori_ curse really started. Got the bastard right in the temple."

As he watched, Gray's eyes fluttered open, pulling Makarov from the memory. The ice mage was clearly disoriented, taking in the bandages that covered his torso with some surprise. Then the dark gaze fell on Jung, and Gray's entire body language relaxed and softened into something that was utterly adorable. Gray shakily lifted his other arm over to Jung's head, stroking the shaggy brown hair gently.

"Thanks, kid." Makarov barely caught the whisper as he eased himself out of the infirmary, closing the door behind him softly. He stood for a moment in the sunshine and smiled. It didn't matter how Jung had managed to get off a shot from that far, after all. One didn't need to question the miracles that happened in the name of love and desperation. He, as the guild leader of the most loyal hearts he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing, knew that better than most people. It was no chance that Jung had stumbled into Gray Fullbuster that night. Jung's warm, fierce heart, so entwined with Gray's, was the true heart of Fairy Tail.

THE END


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